


Swinging across burnt bridges

by Ideasofmarch



Series: Impossible is a fickle truth [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack Treated Seriously, F/F, F/M, Harry is a Little Shit, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Humor, M/M, Ministry of Magic bashing, Original Character(s), Powerful Harry, Sarcasm, Sassy Harry, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Smart Harry, Theo and Harry are endgame, There is a plot I swear, Traveling, but it's a bit of a, it's a little bit cracky, slowburn, slytherins are not devils
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2019-10-11 16:38:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 52,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17450546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ideasofmarch/pseuds/Ideasofmarch
Summary: After the complete catastrophe that was fourth year - you know, triwizard tournament, death of a friend, the general fickle loyalties of the wizarding world - it's safe to say that Harry is a far way away from being anywhere close to okay. Trapped and alone in the house that had never been his home, our favorite boy hero simply cannot resist opening the package his godfather gave him.What follows is a series of events including but not limited to: the revelation of a long lasting crush, several parties, therapy, and one strangely happy goblin - not exactly in that order.Whatever the matter, Hogwarts, and the rest of the wizarding world, could never have been prepared for a Harry Potter that really was a combination of Lily and James; with just a dash of Slytherin to top it off.





	1. shattered glass makes lovely mosaics

**Author's Note:**

> Heeey,  
> So, i don't know if you've read my other fic (Probably not, it's not like i'm that great a writer even). But if you have you're probably wondering why i'm uploading this instead of the next chapter of that.  
> I don't really have an answer for that, this idea got into my head and now it's stuck there till i write it out, so i'm writing it out.  
> I will update my other fic though, I promise.
> 
> But please do enjoy this one if you are going to read it.  
> \- love, Nadzi

~0~The first day of Summer holidays~0~

Harry knew he looked awful. He knew he was skinnier then usual, even more then that with the Dursley’s meagre rations, and he knew the bags under his eyes were darker then ever.

But ever since Cedric he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t eat, and most days he couldn’t even force himself to write a quick note to the order to confirm his status as living. He didn’t want to. He certainly didn’t _feel_ alive.

From the moment he woke up in that hospital bed, knowing that Cedric was gone and his worst nightmare had come true, all Harry could feel was an empty hollowness that seemed to dull everything. For the first time in his life Harry was grateful for the long lists of chores he had to complete every day, he’d needed something, _anything_ , to keep himself busy. To keep himself from sinking so deep into his dark thoughts that he might not ever escape it.

Every now and then he would look at the package Sirius had given him on their last encounter, that was more than a week ago now and he still hadn’t opened it. He didn’t really know why, probably just wanting to savour the fact that someone who loved him had gotten him something special. It wasn’t the same as with the Weasley’s or with his friends, Sirius was just his.

Harry bit his lip.

If he didn’t open it now he’d keep it wrapped all summer. Sirius had said it was a way to call him if Harry needed him, and he didn’t want to inadvertently cause Sirius to get arrested. But Harry needed his godfather, if he didn’t get himself some help now then he didn’t know if he’d ever even get to see Sirius in person again.

He carefully unwrapped the gift, lifting the box’s lid with careful precision. It was a mirror? The super important thing that Sirius had wanted him to have… was a mirror? Was his hair really that awful? He picked it up, examining it with a critical eye. Then he flipped it over, and on the reverse side was handwriting.

An incredibly neat scribble that read:

_This is a two-way mirror, I've got the other one of the pair. If you need to speak to me, just say my name into it; you'll appear in my mirror and I'll be able to talk in yours. James and I used to use them when we were in separate detentions._

For the first time in weeks Harry felt something. A rush of happiness so strong it knocked the air from his lungs. This was perfect.

“Sirius Black” He said, shocking himself when his voice came out hoarse and weak.

Not even five seconds later Sirius’s smiling face appeared in the mirror.

“You used it!” He said cheerfully, but then he noticed Harry’s appearance and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, you don’t see your friend get murdered in front of you and then get tortured without a few adverse side-effects.” The joke sounded weak even to his own ears.

Sirius frowned some more, “Have you been eating?”

“You think the Dursley’s give me food?” Harry snorted in reply to his own question.

“They _starve_ you?!” 

“Is it that obvious?”

Sirius ignored his sarcasm, “I’m telling Dumbledore and we are getting you out of there. I told him you needed therapy and love, not whatever the hell kind of dysfunctionality Petunia can offer.”

“Don’t bother,” Harry said, oddly touched that his godfather had fought Dumbledore for him, “I told him in first year, said I was “exaggerating” and that there’s “nothing wrong with tough love”” Harry definitely employed the use of air quotes.

“He what?!”

“Yep.”

“Well then you’re just going to have to get out yourself out.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Harry. Pack you’re bags, sneak out if you have to.”

“But where will I go?”

“Go to the leaky. I’ll meet you there in a day or two, maybe with Mooney.”

“Sirius you can’t!”

“Don’t worry pup, I’ll be in snuffles form. The three of us are going to take a nice long trip to Costa Rica.”

“Costa Rica?” The confusion in Harry’s voice was thick.

“I’ve still got a hide out over there from last year.” Sirius sounded smug. “So, do you want to do it?”

“Please.”

“Then grab your stuff and leave tonight.”

“Got it, Siri.”

“Love you, Prongslet.”

“I – I love you too.” Harry’s voice cracked and he stumbled over his words but Sirius didn’t mention it, simply waving goodbye with a tearful smile before disconnecting the mirrors.

Harry sucked in a huge gulp of air. He was doing this, he was really, finally  going to get away from the Dursleys. A couple of tears made their way down Harry’s cheeks but he paid them no mind as he hurriedly gathered what little belongings he had before gently tip toeing out of his room.

The Dursleys hadn’t been locking his doors lately and they had allowed him to keep his trunk in his room this summer instead of under the stairs. It probably had something to do with Moody threatening them to hell and back on the platform, Harry had no doubt that they would eventually start locking him in again so his escape was literally now or never.

Years of verbal and physical abuse had taught Harry how to move swiftly through the halls without making so much as a creek, even with a trunk in his hands he was able to walk down the stairs in silence. He had already let Hedwig out, telling her to meet him at the leaky, smiling softly as he watched her fade into the distance.

At the front door Harry took one last look at the place he had lived in for fourteen years.

He wouldn’t miss it for a second.

The night air was bighting and the rags he was draped in did Harry no favours what so ever. He quickly stuck his wand in the air, teeth chattering as he waited one second, two seconds,  three – and there it was. The knight bus.

“Welcome to the Knight bus. Transportation for stranded Witches and Wizards in need. Where’d ya’ need to go?”

“Hey, Stan.”

“Mr Potter! Ernie would’ya look at that its Mr Potter. Welcome aboard, welcome aboard.” Stan shunpike threw his arms open.

“Thanks, Stan. The leaky Cauldron please.” Harry said with a tiered smile.

“Not a problem Mr Potter, have a seat.” Stan conversed with Ernie for a moment, “that’ll be seven sickles.”

Harry fished around for some change before handing Stan a Galleon, “Keep the change.”

                                                                                                                                             

 

The ride was over in seconds but Harry wished it had never happened at all. Riding on the knight bus was… unpleasant, to say the least. It always resulted in some kind of injury and an upset stomach, still Harry thanked both stan and Ernie before hopping off.

He wanted desperately to just book a room at the leaky and grab some shut eye, but he knew his first stop would have to be Gringotts. He needed money to book a room, and to buy food and clothes. It was probably around 10’ o clock, luckily it seemed like nothing was shutting down for at least another hour or two, so he had time.

Diagon Ally was a very different place in the late afternoon. Shops he’d never seen before we bursting with life, witches and wizards spilling out into the streets with drinks in hand. The whole place seemed to be tinted in a warm orange light, it was, for lack of a better word, magical.

It was easy to move through the crowd, nobody really paid attention to the small boy lugging around a worn out trunk, especially not when they were well on their way to getting utterly sloshed. He made the trip to Gringotts in record time, nodding politely at the goblin guards before entering the atrium.

He hadn’t even made it to a teller before his elbow was being grabbed by a very stern looking goblin, dragging him straight past the tellers and down a dark hall. Harry wanted to question it, he did, but the goblin already looked annoyed and was muttering in Gobbledygook so he decided not to test his luck. The goblin stopped outside a pair of large oak doors that were filled with intricate carvings in a language Harry couldn’t understand.

The goblin knocked politely and, when he heard a grunt from the other side, unceremoniously threw Harry in and walked away.

“Um.” He said smartly.

“Mr Potter,” The goblin sitting at the desk began, “Now that we’ve finally caught you alone, we at Gringotts have been sending you missives bi-monthly for two years now. Would you like to explain why you have only deigned to answer them now?”

“Um.” He said again. “What missives?”

The goblin raised an eyebrow, “Do you mean to tell me you have not received _any_ of the letters we sent you?”

“Ah, no?”

“Sit down Mr Potter, we have more to discuss then I anticipated.”

Harry took a seat in the brown leather chair and faced the goblin. He looked a round for a moment, trying to find something to tell him the goblin’s name.

“Excuse me sir, but um, what is your name?”

“Call me Axel. I am the manager of the Potter Vaults, I have been since before your father was born.”

“Nice to meet you sir, what did you want to talk to me about, then?”

“Mr Potter, are you aware of the status of your vaults?”

“Vaults?”

“Sweet Circe, this is worse than I thought.” Axel looked like he wanted to face-palm himself, “You will have to take a full inheritance test, then we shall discuss your vaults and heirship status.”

“How much will an inheritance test cost me?”

“All we require is three drops of blood.” Axel said, bringing out a ordinary looking sheet of parchment.

Harry mulled it over for a moment, then offered up his left index finger. Quick as lightning Axel had darted forward, slicing his finger open and allowing three drops to fall before waving his hand and healing the cut. He vanished the blood left over on the knife as well, but Harry didn’t even notice that as he was too busy watching his blood trail down the parchment.

The red liquid swirled round and round, forming words and sentences before his very eyes. It was mesmerising. Finally the blood stopped moving and Axel looked over the parchment with a critical eye.

The goblin finished reading it in silence, handing it deftly to Harry with a look of pure surprise.

_Name: Hadrian James Potter_

_Parents: James Fleamont Potter, Lilian Marie Potter (nee Evans)_

_Grandparents: Maternal – Rose Evans (nee Anderson), Edward Evans_

_Paternal – Charlus Potter, Dorea Potter (nee Black)_

_Godparents: Sirius Orion Black, Alice Longbottom (nee Fortescue)_

_Inheritance: Heir Potter (Paternal), Heir Black (Godfather), Heir Slytherin (Conquest)_

_Vaults: Potter heir trust vault (1000 Galleons, 2000 Sickles, 4000 knuts – refiled annually), Potter portrait and artefact Vault, Potter main vault (1.4 billion Galleons, 0.6 billion Sickles, 3.8 million Knuts), Black heir trust vault (100,000 Galleons – refiled annually), Black artefact vault, Black main Vault (3.3 billion Galleons, 7.5 million sickles, 1.2 billion knuts), Slytherin main vault (50,000 Galleons)_

_Properties:  Potter – Potter manor England, Potter manor Bangladesh, Vacation home France, Vacation home Bahamas, Vacation home Washington DC_

_Black – Black manor England, Black manor Chiro, Vacation home Bulgaria, Vacation home Costa Rica, Vacation home Mexico city_

_Slytherin – Slytherin manor England_

_Health status: Malnourished, eye sight deterioration, block on magical core (core binding and dampening), Improperly healed bones (left clavicle, left femur, right ulna, left metacarpals), soul piece, untreated magical damage (Cruciatus)_

Harry stared at the parchment.

And he stared, and stared, and stared.

He had so much money. Enough money that he would never have to work if he didn’t want to, nor would his children, nor his grand-children. Hell, his great-great-great-great-great grand-children would probably still live comfortably with this amount of money.

“I have… so many questions.” He finally said.

“I am here to answer them, Mr Potter.”

“Okay, first, You manage the Potter accounts, correct?”

“I do, why?”

“Would you consider managing all my accounts?”

This seemed to stun the usually unemotional goblin for a moment, he eventually managed to choke out an, “I would be honoured.”

“Good. What do the heirships mean?”

“Well when you reach your majority you will gain the Potter Lordship as the last living descendant. You will also gain the Slytherin Lordship by right of conquest, you will become lord Black when the current lord, your godfather, dies or abdicates the title.”

Harry nodded along, “What does conquest mean?”

“The last living heir of Slytherin before you was Tom Marvolo Gaunt, better known as the dark lord Voldemort. The night you vanquished him you gained the Slytherin heirship by right of conquest.”

“So, because I defeated him I got everything that was his?”

“yes.”

“But doesn’t that mean that any witch or wizard that kills another gains their entire inheritance?”

“Well, no. The defeated party has to lose their magic, not their life, for the right of conquest to be bestowed.”

“Oh, okay, I get it." Harry said, even though he didn't get it at all, "What do I have to do as heir - oh and Lord too?”

“You will be expected to either join the Wizengamot at your majority or appoint a proxy to vote for your houses interests. The current proxy to the Potters is Albus Dumbledore, the Blacks proxy is Lucius Malfoy as his wife was a Black. Slytherin has no proxy. You will also have to manage your properties or appoint someone to do so.”

“Can I change my proxies?” Harry asked pleadingly.

“Of course, but those removed from their positions will be notified at the next Wizengamot session.”

“When is that?”

“In roughly two months.”

Harry thought it over, two months was more then enough time to disappear but he needed some advice on who to appoint. “Can I think it over first.”

 _“_ Certainly, Mr Potter.”

“Has there been any activity in any of my vaults for the past fourteen years, besides the trust vault?”

“Yes, Mr Potter. Both the Potter and Black vaults have gained large sums due to several investments. The Potter vaults are set to donate a thousand Galleons a year to St. mungo’s. But also been several payments to the Dursley family, also a thousand Galleons a year.”

When Harry spoke his voice was cold with fury, “Who authorised the payments to the Dursleys?”

“Albus Dumbledore, your magical guardian.”

“How quickly can I get him removed from that position?”

“As quickly as you can find an new guardian to take his place.”

“I’ll be back in a day or two then, to do the switch.”

Axel nodded in response.

“Finally, is there anything I can do about my health?”

The goblin grinned then and it was a thing of savage amusement, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Before Harry could say another word Axel snapped his fingers and a team of goblins in pale blue robes flooded into the room. Harry was hoisted out of his chair and dragged out of the room, all the while Axel watched with on with an amused look on his face.

“Um, where are we going?”

“Healing chambers.” One goblin answered shortly.

“Your malnutrition, eye sight, spell damage and improperly set bones will be fixed there.” Another continued.

“Then we will go to the ritual rooms.” Said a third goblin.

“Where we will remove the soul piece and core blockades.” The one behind him said.

“Do you have any issues with this?” All five goblins looked at him.

He blinked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Uh, no?”

They immediately went back to dragging him down the hallway.

They entered a large room filled with beds, goblin healers walking around with purpose, sick wizards and goblins sitting or lying down depending on their state. He had barely a second to take it all in before he was being pushed onto a bed and a piece of leather forced between his teeth. The five healers fluttered around him, casting spell after spell.

Some spells just caused light to flare around him, but for the most part every incantation caused an almost unbearable amount of pain. It wasn’t as bad as the Cruciatus but by Merlin he was thankful he had the leather to bite on, otherwise they’d have to magic his tongue back on as well.

After what felt like hours of resetting bones and being force fed dozens of potions Harry felt like absolute shit. Every fibre of his being ached, the pain was _literally_ bone deep. Apparently the Cruciatus caused tiny fractures in his bones or something - whatever the case; the healing process was _not_ fun.

So yeah, he was drowsy and in a hell of a lot of pain, but he also felt great. His glasses were sitting on the table beside him but he could see perfectly, and the fact that his toes touched the end of the bed meant he was definitely taller. Gods, Harry wanted to kiss the goblin Healers.

One of them scowled at him. He rethought his last sentiment.

“Alright Mr Potter, up you get. Time to get rid of the blocks and the soul piece.”

“Oh Merlin, please no.”

“Get up.” She said, no sympathy in her voice.

Harry groaned, forcing himself to swing his legs of the bed. He winced with every move he made, using the bedside table to push himself to his feet. Though the second he let go of the table he was back on his arse, apparently newly lengthened limbs were not as easy to walk on as they looked.

It took more then a few tries but eventually Harry managed to get to his feet. He took a few test steps around his bed before trying to make it to the mirror.

“Woah,” Harry stared wide eyed at his new reflection.

He didn’t even look like himself! Well, he did, but he looked like a version of himself that hadn’t spent the majority of their years sleeping in a closet and got regular meals. He was right too, he was tall, probably as tall as Ron. And was that - ?

“Did you guys give me _muscles_?”

“You’ll have to start exercising if you want to keep them. Now can we leave?” She muttered from beside him, probably still annoyed that he was looking in the mirror instead of walking to the ritual room.

“But why?”

“We had to ruin more then a few of your muscles to fix the fractures. It was easier and more practical to return them all to optimum shape, rather then put the others back into the sorry state they were in.”

“Oh,” Harry supposed that, if this was what he looked like at optimum shape, he was going to do whatever it took to keep it this way.

“Can we go now?” The goblin healer asked again.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” He was still sort of disorientated.

She sighed, again. Rolling her eyes before grabbing his wrist and dragging him out the hospital, Harry was fairly certain she was mumbling under her breath about “Idiot humans”. The ritual room was only two doors down but fit nearly two dozen goblins. They were standing in a large circle around a rectangular platform made of an inky black material that seemed to reflect what little light there was in a kaleidoscope of colours.

“Do I have to lay on that?” He asked, cringing when twenty four beady eyes turned on him.

“yes, Mr Potter, you do.” Said one in the middle, he looked to be the one in charge.

“Okay then.” He got on the platform like someone stepping into really cold water. Slowly, and with a lot hesitation.

The goblins gave a collective huff when he was finally laying flat on the stone, they didn’t do anything else for a long moment, and Harry almost asked if they were done.

And then they started.

 

Harry could barely remember what happened next.

First it was just chanting, low and soft, in a language he could never hope to understand. Then it grew louder, until it felt like their words were echoing within his mind and body. He could feel his magic flaring, reaching out of his chest to swipe at the intruding voices. It was excruciating, like a layer of his soul was being torn away, which, Harry supposed, was actually the case.

He knew no more then that. He didn’t know when they stopped, or when they moved him back to the healing chambers, or how they’d gotten him into the pyjamas he was currently wearing.

Harry blinked awake slowly, the world swimming in and out of focus like he was looking through water. The first thing he noticed was that everything that had been hurting him just hours before was almost entirely gone. The bone-deep aches and muscle pain, the budding headache – all of it, gone.

It felt like a weight, something that had been hanging on his shoulders for his entire life, had suddenly dissipated. Even lying here on the bed, he felt lighter, more free. Like he finally fitted into his own skin.

“Ah, Mr Potter. Finally awake I see.” The fact that the goblin was speaking in a cheerful tone was enough to knock Harry into speechlessness. “How are you feeling?”

“Uh- um good? I think.” He stumbled, “I feel better, I guess. Like – I don’t know – like I’m free?”

The goblin chuckled, and it was the warmth in it that was unnerving, “Well, that’s to be expected, Mr Potter. Your soul is entirely your own for the first time in fourteen years and you’re magic has been unleashed to it’s full potential! You have literally been unshackled.”

“How, um, tightly, exactly, was my magic bound?”

“Quite tightly indeed, Mr Potter. Why, I’m surprised you could have done the things you did with how little magic you had available to you.” He tapped his finger to his chin, “Honestly, the amount of power you have now is almost ridiculous. You’re on par with, maybe even surpassing, the likes of Albus Dumbledore and Grindelwald. And at fifteen too! By the time you reach your majority I’d reckon you’d be on power levels we haven’t seen since Merlin himself!”

Harry stared dumbly at him.

“Oh don’t worry, Mr Potter. Right now all your reactions will be a little slow, mentally and physically. Not much is going to register or make sense right now, but a bit of rest and you’ll be right as rain.”

“Oh-okay.”

And then he lost any semblance of consciousness.

 

 

When he finally woke up again he felt like himself again.

His mind had stopped being sluggish – actually, it felt as if his thoughts were moving faster then ever. It was almost painful, to be honest. Harry winced, pulling his eyes shut and grabbing at his forehead.

“Ah, I should have realised. The bindings also slowed your mind, now that it’s gone… well, let’s just say you’ll be scoring a lot higher on your O.W.L’s then you thought you would.” The same goblin from before, the senselessly happy one, handed him a potion, “Drink up, this should calm the pain some.”

He threw it back like a shot, making a face at the awful taste.

“Feel any better?” Harry nodded. “Good then, you have visitors.”

“I do? Who?”

“One Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.” At Harry’s panicked look the goblin said, “ Don’t worry, Mr Potter, we don’t get involved in wizard squabbles. Your godfather is safe here.”

“Let them in, please. And – um, sorry, what’s your name?”

“Ganzi, Mr Potter.” He said, “and I’ll let them right in.”

Ganzi was gone for less then a minute, then he came back in with wide eyed Remus and Sirius in tow. The goblin checked a few more things, hobbling around the room and casting a few spells at Harry, then he cheerfully waved before walking out the door.

“Did anyone else see that?” Sirius’ eyed the door suspiciously, “That goblin just waved at us. _Happily_.”

Harry laughed, “Yeah, I almost fell right out of the bed when I first woke up.” Then Harry smiled at his godfather and pseudo-godfather. “How’d you guys know I was here.”

“As you’re godfather, the goblins had to send me a letter notifying me of your condition. They don’t give a shit if I’m a ‘murderer’.” He put that last bit in air quotes.

“I would’ve killed you if you’d gotten yourself arrested.”

He laughed, “I know, Prongslet.”

For a moment they all just smiled at each other, happy to be in each other’s company after months of separation. Then Harry remembered.

“Oh – Remus, I wanted to ask you: Right now Dumbledore’s my magical Guardian, would you take his place?”

“ _Me_?” His amber eyes filled with confusion.

“Of course, Sirius is my actual godfather, this will make you as good as.”

Remus answered that with a bear hug, wrapping his long limbs around as much of Harry as he could. “I would _love_ to, Harry.”

And then they were both crying.

“Alright, alright.” Remus said, wiping his eyes and standing back up, “I’m okay, we’re okay.”

“So Prongslet, what the _fuck_ happened?” Sirius asked, causing Harry to burst into a fit of giggles.

“Well, I came to Gringotts for some money to book a room at the Leakey but a goblin grabbed me the second I walked through the doors. Brought me to the manager of the Potter accounts, Axel. We did an inheritance test and, long story short, I was unhealthy as fuck.”

“I feel like I should be saying something about his language.”

“If anyone has no right to scold someone for swearing, it’s you, Padfoot.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Prongslet, continue.” Sirius waved his hand at him.

“Ri-ght, anyway, Bad eye sight, malnutrition, spell damage. The whole shebang. Plus, my magical core was bound and I had a piece of soul stuck on my own.”

“What?!” Both Sirius and Remus looked enraged.

“Yeah, I feel like I should be more angry. But I just feel so much better that I almost don’t care. Don’t get me wrong though, if I ever find out who bound my core, or whoever dropped a piece of their soul in me. Well, lets just say the bastard will be _sorry_.”

“Harry, are you… taller?” Remus raised an eyebrow.

“And is that muscle I see?” Sirius smirked.

“The healers said my body was so messed up after the healing that it was more “practical” to just put me back into optimum shape. Apparently optimum shape me is hot as hell.”

“Damn right kid, you look better then James ever did.”

“Pads, you know damn well that James was far too addicted to sugar quills to have a body like _that_.”

“Yeah, he never had goblin healers put him into the best possible shape either.”

“Oi!” Harry shouted playfully, “Are you two implying I could never have achieved this without magical intervention?”

“Oh, we’re not implying it, Harry.”

“We’re outright stating it.” Sirius booming laugh filled the room when Harry stuck his tongue out at them.

“Whatever, I’ve still got to train if I want to keep it.”

“Perfect,” Remus clapped his hands like a middle aged white mom, “you can join Sirius. He’s got a whole regime of exercises to get him back into shape.”

“Hey! I’m in great condition.” Sirius pouted.

“You look like a skeleton with skin.”

“I resent that.”

“Whatever, Pads.” Remus chuckled, then he turned back to Harry, “We’ll be staying at my place for a couple of days, yeah? Then we’ll head over to Costa Rica.”

“Wait, you were serious about that?”

Remus dropped his head into his palms and Sirius grinned so wide Harry thought he might have pulled a few muscles.

“Oh, I’m _always_ Sirius.” He laughed at their groans.

_Thump! Thump!_

Remus had conjured up a rolled up newspaper and then proceeded to whack Sirius on the head with it, chasing the Animagus around their giggling cub's bed.

As he watch them Harry had a fleeting thought: _life with the last two marauders will, at the very least, never be dull._

                    


	2. Travelling in style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ya'll,  
> so, i was supposed to have been studying for my IGCSE's. But instead i wrote this, so enjoy because this chapter probably cost me my A in chemistry.  
> (Also its probably (definitely) not clear in the last chapter, but this story takes place in 2015. the British wizarding world has not progressed at all so when we head back over to hogwarts nothing much will have changed. I mostly just wanted to use modern lingo in my writing ngl.)
> 
> with love,  
> Nadzi

They’d apparated to Remus’s house as soon as Ganzi had given them the all clear. Apparently Harry had been knocked out for an entire day, Sirius and Remus were going frantic trying to find him by the time they received Gringotts letter. They appeared in a spot surrounded by miles and miles, and miles of forest. The home was something out of a fairy tale,  a cottage made up of mix matched wood, all stuck together lovingly and by hand.

“Built it ourselves,” Sirius grinned at Harry’s look of amazement. “We were seventeen back then, not the best carpenters, as you can see.”

“I think we did alright. It’s still standing, isn’t it?” Remus said, coming forward to wrap an arm around Sirius’s waist.

“That it is, moony.” He smiled dopily, “that it is.”

It was a homey place, similar to the burrow but somehow entirely different. All the furniture was mismatched but seemed to follow a subtle theme, and the two bedrooms were obviously designed by Sirius and Remus respectively.

Sirius’s was red and gold, colours so loud and bright it almost hurt Harry’s eyes. Gryffindor propaganda was littered everywhere, from a banner on the wall to a dirty red and gold scarf on the floor. Harry grimaced, making Remus laugh and Sirius pout.

“I told you it was too much,” He said to Sirius, then turned to Harry, “Don’t worry, cub. You’ll be in the other room. The only other person that has to be subjected to _that_ torture is me.”

“Fuck off, moony. You like the red and gold, and you know it. You’re only lying to yourself.”

Remus flipped Sirius off, but he was smiling and shaking his head fondly at the animagus, so it lost most of its effect.

Harry smiled at their antics, snorting softly to himself before making his way to his new bedroom. Anyone with half a brain could have figured out that Remus designed it, It had an earthy theme to it, with tan walls and a huge wooden bed. Like the rest of the house, everything was handmade, including a beige quilt thrown over the bedding.

He walked over to it, sitting on the impossibly soft mattress, and hugged it close to his chest.

This was _his_.

Five years ago he’d walked into an old castle and called it home. It was the first place he felt calm in, the first place he’d been given love and shown affection. He’d thought that that was what a home was. But he never felt safe in Hogwarts – not really, there was always expectations and bullies, and some crazy scheme by Voldemort. No, the school wasn’t his home. The last true home he’d had was a hidden house in Godric’s Hollow, and it was odd to miss a home you never really had.

But being here now, in this small cottage with his godparents, he felt at home. Like something soft settling in his chest, a blinding relief, an ingrained knowledge that here he was safe, here he was _home_.

Harry smiled.

 

As it turned out, Remus and Sirius weren’t lying when they said they’d be leaving soon. Harry had barely three days to get used to his new room before Sirius came back from an order meeting telling them they had to leave.

“Do they not suspect I’m with you?” Harry had asked him when Sirius informed them that the order had figured out that Harry was no longer at the Dursley household.

“Nah.” He’d shaken his head with a laugh, “As far as they’re concerned I’m locked up in a room with Buckbeak all day. Idiots.”

They’d started packing immediately, throwing everything they had in one extended suitcase. Harry was throwing quite a bit more then usual into the suitcase. Sirius and Remus had, under heavy glamours and notice-me-not charms, dragged him to both muggle and magical shops in order to get him a whole new wardrobe.

Try as he may Harry could not figure out a valid argument against it. They were in no way short of money, the chance of them being found in Diagon ally was miniscule, even less in muggle London. And he _did_ need new clothes – or any clothes at all really. Sirius refused to call Dudley’s cast offs clothes.

The shopping trip had lasted several hours. Apparently Sirius was a bit fashion crazy, dragging them both from store to store, gleefully throwing clothes at Harry to try on. In the end they’d walked away with several bags on their arms, mostly filled with cotton T-shirts, tank tops, a couple of sweatpants, and five pairs of jeans. Remus had insisted on some button-down shirts and slacks, even managing to convince Harry to buy a tie or two. Diagon ally had produced similar results, except _so_ _much_ _worse_.

Harry had left with fifteen different open front robes, twelve closed front robes, and nine dress robes. All custom made. He’d thought it ridiculous, but Sirius insisted. Remus had laughed at Harry’s dismay causing Sirius to turn and look at him.

Fear entered his eyes then.

Sirius had thrown Remus right up next to Harry, chucking robes into his arms and skilfully ignoring any protests the werewolf offered. They’d all been exhausted at the end of the day, though Sirius was smiling and Harry and Remus looked like they both wanted to murder him in gruesome and creative ways.

The extendable bag was filled to the brim by the time everything was packed, all three wizards sweating as they ran around the house, trying to find anything they wanted to take with them.

Sirius had secured a safe house in Costa Rica years ago. The wizarding community there was so far removed from the British one it was almost funny. Perhaps it was the fact that it was a smaller area, but the Costa Rican Wizarding government had easily created a vetting process that weeded out almost all corrupt officials through a combination of Veritaserum, legilimency, and surprise check ins. All Sirius had to do was request a meeting with the head auror and provide a few memories and he was granted asylum.

Just like that. Of course, the Costa Rican wizarding world practically despised the British one, so that did provide some extra motivation for them to help Sirius. Over that side of the pond, magical creatures were welcomed, sometimes even celebrated, in the community. They hated the discrimination of the British, not only with creatures but also at their shunning of dark magic.

Sirius, being a naturally dark wizard, fit in perfectly over there.

“Just you wait, Prongslet. You’re going to love it in Costa Rica.”

“I still can’t believe how easily they gave you asylum.” Harry wanted to laugh, he really did.

“Once they saw my memories it was easy. I also think they just really wanted to get one over the British ministry.”

“You were granted asylum out of _spite_?”

“Hell Yeah.”

“That’s fucking hilarious.”

“Language!” Remus shouted from the other room.

“Sorry” They said before bursting into giggles.

“I honestly don’t know why I bother.” The werewolf sighed as he walked into the living room.

“Because you _love_ us.” Sirius chimed in a voice reminiscent of a thirteen year old girl teasing her friend.

With a long suffering look Remus muttered, “I suppose I do.”

“I _knew_ it.”

“Sirius, shut up.”

He pouted, “I thought you _loved_ me.”

“Shut up.”

“Moony, sweet moony. Why must you hurt me so?”

“Oh, stop it you two.” Harry interrupted with a grin, “we’re going to miss our portkey.”

“Damn, I almost forgot. Thanks for the reminder kiddo.”

Sirius quickly got up, sprinting out the door to grab the giant inflatable flamingo the Costa Rican ministry had sent as a portkey. Remus had continuously grumbled about the size of the thing, Harry thought it was Hilarious, deciding then and there that whoever commissioned the portkey was his new favourite person.

“We have,” Remus checked his watch, “Like, a minute before this activates. Everyone grab on.”

He held onto the beak, which was at shoulder level, with one hand and their luggage in the other, Sirius grabbed onto the neck. Harry, to their amusement, climbed onto the flamingo’s back with a shit-eating grin.

For a few seconds they just waited. Five, four, three, two, one –

Portkey’s sucked, in Harry’s humble opinion. It was worse than apparition and the knight bus put _together_ , it felt like you were being yanked through a tube that had a circumference of 2 inches, and the tube was being banged on by angry two year olds with hammers, and the tub was made of sandpaper.

The only thing good about this particular portkey ride was that, when they arrived, both Remus and Sirius were sprawled on the floor, groaning in pain, while Harry was still sat triumphantly on the flamingo.

“Fuck you, Harry.” Sirius said, still laying face down on the marble.

“Hey, don’t hate on me because I was the only one smart enough to get on the flamingo.”

“It’s a giant hot pink inflatable flamingo, how were we supposed to know we had to climb on it?”

“It has a seating area, duh.” Harry deadpanned.

Suddenly, the large glass doors at the front of the room swung open, revealing a tan man in his forties.

“Ah, Sirius Black!”

“Archon! Nice to see you.” Sirius crossed the floor and gave the man a brotherly hug.

“Long time no see, Sirius.”

“Yeah, I had to go back to England for my godson’s school year.”

“Of course, of course. This must be the famous Harry potter then.” Archon turned to Harry, shaking his hands with a smile, not once glancing up at his scar.

Harry decided he liked this man.

“And this,” Archon said, winking at Remus, “must be your lovely mate.”

Sirius threw an arm over a blushing Remus’s shoulder, giving him a peck on the cheek before saying, “Yeah, he is.”

“Come then, you three. I’m your official tour guide for today. Welcome to San José.”

As Archon walked away, Sirius whispered “He showed me around too, last time I was here. Might have talked about you two a lot, sorry.” Sirius didn’t sound sorry at all.

Archon led them around the ministry. First taking them to immigration, where they each registered for a two month stay. Then he showed them where all the important offices were, anything they might need to know. As they went almost everyone greeted Sirius, smiling at him and joking like they were all old friends.

Turns out everyone over here found it hilarious that Sirius was out in the open with absolutely no glamours and the British had no idea. It wasn’t too surprising, seeing as the British ministry despised asking for help, and even if they did Costa Rica would never help them. Add that to the fact that Sirius had escaped from Europe’s so called ‘highest security prison’ and successfully evaded the best forces the British had to offer had made him somewhat of a national hero.

After the ministry they took a floo trip to a small wizarding town on the Las Playitas beach. It was a bit larger then Hogsmeade, but not by much.

“The whole town is right on the beach, and next to the forest as you can see. The whole town is wrapped in anti-muggle charms, even if they know the town is here, they never visit, so you can use your magic freely. Harry, the European laws do not apply here, you are free to use magic at your guardians’ discretion.” Archon said as they walked about. “I understand you’ll be staying in the muggle hotel.”

“Yeah, I booked two rooms a few days ago.” Sirius nodded.

“I’ll show you there, it is only a ten minute walk.”

None of them, besides Archon, were wearing anything close to formal, so the walk was a comfortable one. Harry was in a pair of grey board shorts and a fitted white T-shirt, while Remus and Sirius wore jeans and matching shirts that read “moony” and “Padfoot” respectively.

Remus had almost murdered Sirius while the Animagus attempted to pull the shirt over his head this morning.

“And here we are.” The man clasped his hands, “the lobby is that way. I’m sure I’ll see you all sometime in the next two months, but for now, goodbye.”

Then Archon popped off with a cheery wave, leaving the three wizards to walk into the grandiose hotel lobby.

 

The check in went smoothly, with the employees greeting Sirius as enthusiastically as the witches and wizards in San José. They were quickly taken to their rooms, all on the sixth floor, with Sirius and Remus in one and Harry in the other. Both rooms were connected by a door next to a large closet that contained some soft robes and bath slippers.

“I _love_ this place.” Harry whispered to himself as he slipped on the robe.

He walked over to door connecting the room and knocked. “Are you guys decent?”

“In a minute, Harry!” Came Remus’s muffled reply.

It took way more than a minute.

Half an hour later Sirius poked his head through the door with a grin on his face, “ you can come in now.”

“ _in a minute, Harry_.” He said in a mocking voice.

“Shut up, Prongslet. You’ll understand one day.”

“Fuck off.”

“Oh, how you wound me with you’re words of scorn.” He placed a hand over his heart and feigned a heart attack.

“Sirius, stop making Harry suffer you’re melodramatics.” Remus called from the other room

“See Prongslet, you’ve turned moony against me as well. Whatever shall I do?”

“Shut up, Sirius.” They said in unison.

He fell backwards onto Harry’s bed like he’d been shot.

“What did you want earlier, Harry?” Remus asked, as if his mate wasn’t pretending to be dead.

“I wanted to ask if we could go exploring.”

“The town or the hotel?” Said Sirius from the bed.

“Both?”

“Yeah, sure Harry. Do you want to go now?”

“Yeah, I wanna see everything.” Then he turned to Sirius, “and Sirius, why does everyone here _also_ treat you like a national treasure.”

“Oh, last time I was here I just talked to people, a lot.”

“And it has nothing to do with the fact that you have no conception of how to appropriately tip people, right?”

“Shut up, moony, I tip the exact right amount.”

“You tipped that man three hundred dollars.” He deadpanned.

“That was _one_ time.”

“Oh I’m sorry , that’s right, you _did_ tip that one woman five hundred dollars.”

“Fuck off.”

“No.”

Sirius pouted and Harry laughed, “Can we go now?” he asked through his giggles.

“Yeah, come on.” Remus ruffled Sirius’s hair as he passed.

They explored the hotel first, checking out the pool – which was huge and shaped like a bean, with a slide on the side – and the gym. They also dropped by the hotel restaurant to look at the menu, it was a mix of cuisines, from Asian to western.

“Oh I can’t wait till dinner, I want some curry.” Sirius licked his lips.

“Yeah, yeah, we all know how you love your curry.” Remus rolled his eyes at his mate.

“I didn’t know.”

“Your grandmother was the one to introduce him to it.”

“Oh sweet Merlin, moony. Mrs P’s chicken masala curry was _the_ best.” He smiled in remembrance, “I’ll make you some when we get back home, Mrs P taught me.”

Remus chuckled, “Your father couldn’t cook for shit, Harry. Mrs P was so happy when Sirius took to it like a fish to water.”

He kept thinking about it throughout the day, even as they walked through the rest of the hotels facilities and the entire walk to the magical town nearby. His father couldn’t cook. It didn’t seem like a big thing, but it made his dad human. Harry himself was a rather excellent cook, so maybe that meant his mum could cook and he’d inherited it from her.

“Hey, um, Remus.” He tugged at the werewolf’s sleeve, “could my mum cook?”

“Yeah, Lily used to make the best lasagna. And you used to love her apple pie.”

“Oh.” He said.

Remus just smiled at him knowingly, not brining it up again and turning back to Sirius. For his part, Harry was grinning to himself, quietly loving that at least the littlest bit of his mum survived through him.

The first time he’d walked through here, Harry hadn’t really taken anything in, too excited that he was even there to begin with.

It was gorgeous in its simplicity. There was nothing overly magical about the place, it just looked like an ordinary Costa Rican town. The people weren’t dressed in stuffy robes or poor attempts at muggle fashion, instead the majority of people were dressed in shorts or jeans, dresses, or comfy tops.

There was no doubt that the place was picturesque, with it’s home made decorations and clean streets, but it felt blissfully ordinary. And that made Harry love it just that much more.

That’s not to say it was indistinguishable from a muggle town, there were still little children chasing around animated dragon toys and teenagers hexing their friends. Witches floating their bags behind them as they walked and house elves running around with baskets of fruit, or meat, or whatever their masters had asked for.

The town – Meridia, Sirius had said it was called – was fully stocked. It had grocery stores and clothing stalls, little vendors on the sidewalks and coffee shops, a branch of Gringotts and fine dining restaurants. Everything you could ever need. Harry looked over the buildings and there, far to the right, stood a bunch of short apartment buildings, no more than three floors each but Harry was sure each one was magically expanded.

“Hey Prongslet,” Sirius tapped his head to bring him back down to earth. “Do you want to grab some lunch? Me and moony are down if you are.”

“Moony and I.” Remus corrected, almost automatically.

Harry laughed, “Sure.”

Sirius lit up, quickly grabbing both their hands and steering them towards a quaint little café that looked as if it was stuck into the side of the shop lots at the last minute. The entire place was decked out in colour, glass bottles of every shade were stuffed with flowers and little blown glass ornaments were strung about. The walls were a grey stone with lines of colour drawn over them seemingly randomly, continuing on to the floor. There wasn’t any doors, the front side of the shop spilling out onto the streets, only blocked off by an array of potted plants.

“Welcome,” Sirius smiled wide, throwing his hands open in the most dramatic way possible, “To Elladora’s !”

Then, just like everywhere else they’d visited so far, Sirius was greeted warmly. Almost immediately, an elderly witch with grey streaked brown hair swooped out of nowhere to engulf him in a bear hug, laughing into his shoulder and almost lifting him off the floor. It wasn’t long before a young girl, maybe eight years old with similarly brown eyes, ran out and into his arms, followed by a guy that looked round Harry’s age and a women and a man who were definitely a couple.

“Sirius!” said the old lady still wrapped around his middle, “Welcome back! Still as skinny as last time, I see. Have you not been drinking the potions I made you?” The women looked stern now, levelling Sirius with a brown eyed glare that would’ve made a weaker man crumble.

“Err, It’s nice to see you too, Elladora. How’s the shop?” He changed the subject as quickly as possible, for a moment it looked like she was going to scold him for it, but she just shook her head and mumbled something about force-feeding.

“It’s great, Siri! Mamá taught me how to make her special salsa!” The little girl he’d tucked onto his hip smiled brightly, showing off her missing front teeth.

“You’ll have to make it for me then, Mia. How’s your brother doing, then? Still moody?” Sirius raised an eyebrow at the other teenager, who scowled and stuck his tongue out.

Harry had to physically hold back a laugh.

“Nah, Alex is fine now.” Then she leaned in and whispered very loudly, “He broke up with Mica.”

“Really?” Sirius whisper-shouted back.

Mia nodded enthusiastically back, Alex came forward and playfully swiped at her head. He growled when she ducked away, jumping out of Sirius’s arms and running behind the women Harry was guessing was their mother.

“Mamá can’t protect you forever, Mia.” He waggled one finger at her giggling face.

“Oh, Alex leave your sister alone. Can’t you see we have people to meet? And Mia, stop telling everyone you see about your brothers relationship status.” She looked at them sternly and Harry was unequivocally remined of Molly Weasley.

“Sorry mamá.” They said together.

Sirius just chuckled, “ Hello Vanessa, Emric.” He hugged both witch and wizard before turning to a bemused looking Remus and Harry. “I would like you all to meet Remus, my lovely mate, and Harry, my spectacular godson.”

Remus smiled at them all, Harry offered a little wave, both blushing furiously at the descriptions.

“Harry, Moony, meet the Arayas. That’s Elladora, owner of Elladora’s, best café in Meridia. her daughter and son-in-law Vanessa and Emric, and their two kids Mia and Alexio. But don’t call him that, he’ll hex you if you do.”

Elladora stepped forward, surprising Remus and Harry both when she pulled them both into a hug, “I’ve heard so much about you! When Sirius was here last he could not stop talking about you.”

“Is that so?

“Yes! I feel like I know you already.”

With that Vanessa grabbed Remus’s arm and began pulling him into the shop, Sirius threw an arm around a similarly wide eyed Harry and dragged him to a large table where Vanessa had already seated and started a animated conversation with Remus. Soon enough, the entire family had sat down at the table.

Sirius eyebrows scrunched up in confusion and he opened his mouth, but Elladora waved him off easily, “We hired some cousins of Emric to man the kitchen for whenever we want to have a family lunch.”

“Ah, I was just about to ask who was cooking if you’re all here.”

“I know.”

The two shared a smile.

“So um,” Harry started, ”how’d you all meet Sirius?”

“Oh about two years ago, a few months after he escaped that awful prison of yours, I believe, he wandered over to this side of the world seeking asylum.” Vanessa smirked, “Of course, we were only too happy to grant it once the aurors saw his memories. Archon, he’s a ministry official and my brother, brought him to us for safe keeping.”

“And I brewed him some potions to fix _this_.” Elladora grabbed Sirius’s skinny arm and shook it about in the air. “Clearly he hasn’t been taking them.”

“I had to go into hiding!” he rubbed his now released arm with a pout.

“Not a good enough excuse, I’ll have a new batch made by Saturday. And you _will_ be taking them, Sirius.”

“Um, yes Elladora.” he nodded quickly.

“I don’t believe it,” Remus shook his head in amazement, “Elladora, you have done the impossible. Tell me, how did you get him to behave?”

“Let’s just say, wooden spoons are always effective.”

Remus eyed her in appreciation.

The rest of the table burst into laughter, barring Sirius, of course, who was looking at both Remus and Elladora with dawning horror.

 

The rest of the afternoon was spent over the table at Elladora’s, where Sirius, Remus, Harry and the Arayas ate a delicious spread of spiced fish and rice, and tons of other things Harry had no hope of naming.

Sometime in the middle of the get together Vanessa had somehow managed to get Harry talking about his previous school years. Everyone was suitably horrified at the tale of his first through fourth year, and by the end of it Elladora had a look in her eye like she either wanted to adopt Harry and or kill someone, Harry couldn’t tell which. Remus and Sirius had both known his school years were bad, but they were only know realising the extent of it now.

Honestly, Harry hadn’t realised just how screwed up his school years had been until right then. Up until now no adult had ever actually cared this much when he’d told them about his life. To be fair, the only other adults who really knew what he went through every year were Dumbledore, who probably wanted him to have more then a few near-death experiences under his belt for the oncoming war, the Hogwarts teacher, who couldn’t really do a damn thing as Dumbledore was their boss and he approved of it all, Molly and Arthur Weasley, who nice as they may be, had a blind sort of faith in Dumbledore, and the Dursleys, who quite honestly had tried to kill him a few times themselves.

“Did they really make you compete in the Triwizard tournament at _fourteen_?” Alex asked in abject horror.

“Yep. Made me fight a Merlin-damned dragon too.”

“What the fuck is wrong with European magicals?”

The rest of the table shouted “Language!” at the same time Harry said “I’ve been asking myself the same question for years.”

Harry and Alex raised their lemonade glasses at each other, clinking them briefly before taking a sip each.

The adults shook their heads at the two teenagers, leaving them to their own conversation while they discussed adult things, such as embarrassing moment of Sirius’s childhood.

“So what do you think that crazy school of yours will throw at you this year.” Alex asked.

“Hopefully nothing.”

Alex shot him a dubious look.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s unlikely, but a boy can hope.” Harry sighed forlornly and swirled his lemonade like it was wine.

“You are as dramatic as your godfather, _Hadrian_.”

“I resent that, _Alexio_.”

Both boys smirked a little, then took a few moments to eat another bite or two of fish.

“So,” Harry started, “Not that I’m complaining or anything. But why am I receiving no “ _boy-who-lived_ ” worship over here.” He said the name with an eyeroll, making it clear that he, in no way, shape, or form, liked it.

“Simple, the vast majority of us do not believe you did it.”

“Finally!” Harry’s outburst startled more than a few people, he sheepishly mouthed a sorry to them before turning back to Alex, “I was a year old for Merlin’s sake, how could I have defeated the most powerful dark lord of the time?”

‘Exactly, most of us believe it was your mother.”

“That’s probably true, I mean she was the only other non-baby in the room.”

“I hope you know I’m going to tell all my friends that the boy-who-lived supports my theory.”

“You, literally just said nobody cared about that here.”

“No, I only said nobody thought it was you, specifically, who defeated the dark lord. You still survived the killing curse, even if it wasn’t anything you did. Plus you won the Triwizard tournament at fourteen, killed a basilisk, traveled through time, and killed someone when you were eleven.”

“It’s not like I wanted to do all that.”

“And yet, you did.”

“Fuck off.”

Alex just laughed at his pout.

“Oi, Harry,” Remus tapped his head to get his attention, “We’re going back to the hotel in like, five minutes. Sirius is just going to the bathroom first.”

“Okay.” He answered before turning back to Alex, “I guess I’ll see you around then.”

“Of course, Harry.” His dark eyes crinkled in a smile, then they widened. “Oh! My friends and I are going out this weekend, you want to come?”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude – “

“Nonsense, my friends will love you. Just give me your number and I’ll text you the details.”

“Oh, I uh, don’t actually have a phone.” For some reason Harry was blushing.

At this point Remus threw a hand around Harry’s shoulder and smiled at Alex, “We were actually planning to buy Harry one later this week.”

“Great!” Alex said, completely ignoring the way Harry was looking at Remus in awe, “I’ll give you my number then. Just text me when you get it.” The boy quickly grabbed Harry’s hand and, with a pen he seemingly took out of mid-air, scribbled his number on Harry’s forearm.

Before Harry could say anything – like where he’d gotten the pen, or why he wasn’t using a quill – Alex was running back into the restaurant, calling out a goodbye as he went.

“Well Harry, looks like you’ve made a friend.” Remus ruffled his hair.

“Yeah, I guess I did. Would you believe he’s the first actual friend I’ve made since first year?”

“I would actually.”

Harry gave him a look.

“Don’t look at me like that. Before the goblins did,” he waved a hand in Harry’s general direction, “ _that_ , you were as shy as they come.”

“I _guess_.”

“Aw, you’re cute when you pout.”

“I am not!”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Harry.”

Sirius walked up just as Harry took a swing at a laughing Remus, “I’m not sure what this wolf here did, but I assume that swipe was deserved.”

“It was.”

“Not.” Remus added with a pout of his own.

Sirius laughed and pecked Remus on the cheek, “That make it any better?”

“A little.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooooo...?


	3. How days go by

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo,  
> I'm back after an extended break.  
> In case anyone was wondering (you probably weren't but i'm exited about it so i'm going to post it anyway) I got that A in chemistry. I'll try not to leave ya'll for so long next time but i've got like 2 months till my IGCSE exams so i might just die.  
> also thank you to achapterandaverse for fixing my mistakes, love ya.  
> Anyway, enjoy chapter 3,  
> \- Nadzi

“We should get him an iPhone.”

Remus just sighed, “For the last time, Sirius, we have to get him a wizarding phone. You know, one that _won’t_ explode every time he casts a spell.”

“But we could just tweak the iPhone, just a little bit.”

“Absolutely not. They’re expensive and you will break it.”

“Moony, in case you hadn’t realised, we’re rich!”

“That does not mean we can just throw money around all willy-nilly. No. We are getting Harry a proper wizarding phone made by _professionals_. End of story.”

“But, _Moony_!”

Harry watched their back and forth with increasing amusement, you would think that eventually they would run out of points for this argument. But no, to Harry’s ever growing amazement, they had actually managed to fight about it for the seventh time, _that_ _day_ , without revisiting a single argument. Frankly, it was astonishing how well they could keep it up.

The conversation ended like it usually did, with a pouting Sirius, and an exasperated Remus.

“You never let me have any fun.” Sirius sat down on the hotel bed with an unbelievably loud harrumph.

“I let you have entirely too much fun and you know it, Pads.” Remus didn’t even spare him a glance.

The hotel room wasn’t huge, nothing excessive, but it was relatively well spaced. It held enough room for a king sized bed, a desk and chair set, and a large closet to fit comfortably inside; not to mention the bathroom equipped with a huge bathtub. Harry was currently snuggled on the bed, resting his back on the wall and cosily wrapped in the large quilt he’d taken from his room in Remus’s cottage.

“We’ll go get you that phone tomorrow, Harry. As well as a laptop for us each, those are rather useful, I think. And what do you think about a Television set for the cottage, Harry, Sirius?”

The Azkaban escapee perked up instantly, “ Really? We can get a Television?”

“Yes, Sirius.” Laughter was rolled into his words.

Both Remus and Harry jumped when Sirius let out a sound that would’ve probably shattered glass, “I love you so much, Moony!” 

Then, much to Harry’s mortification, Sirius jumped on his mate, pushing Remus down on the bed and peppering him with kisses.

“Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew.” Harry’s feet had flung out, pushing both his godfathers right off the edge of the bed. “Do that in your own room.”

The two wizards looked at each other, then at Harry, then back at each other, before their faces broke out into identical smirks. Sirius grabbed Remus’s hand and the werewolf allowed himself to be pulled along by his mate into their own room through the connecting doors.

“And use a silencing spell!” Harry yelled out after them, there were just some things he didn’t need to hear, and Sirius moaning was one of them.

From behind the door he could here laughter, then moaning, then nothing but sweet, blissful silence.

Thank God.

Harry easily got ready for bed, stubbornly refusing to think about what he knew was happening in the other room. He stripped out of his sweatpants and t-shirt before throwing on a loose red top he’d found in the thrift store that Sirius had only allowed him to get if he promised never to wear it out.

Today had been… well, it had been long, and confusing, and enlightening, and a million other things. Harry was definitely still getting used to the speed at which he thought now, how he managed to come to conclusions and pick up on things so much more easily. It was hardly even noticeable before, the oppressive weight that had wrapped itself so tightly around his mind and soul alike. Now though, Harry imagined that if he were ever placed under those restrictions again he might suffocate.

He almost couldn’t believe it. In the matter of a week he’d escaped the Dursleys, fixed his damaged body, moved in with the two adults that cared about him irrevocably, left the country, _and_ made a new friend.

And tomorrow he’d be getting a phone, at which point he could text his new friend and get the details for an outing. An outing he was actually _invited_ to.

For the first time in his life, Harry felt normal, just another kid on a holiday for the summer. Nothing special, no grand destiny or evil villain in sight.

It was all he’d ever wanted.

 

 

The shopping trip the next day was, as any occasion in which Sirius gets a hold of both money and permission to spend it, an exhausting experience.

The day itself had started out alright, with an excellent buffet breakfast and a couple of hours lazing by the pool. Harry, bless his soul, was not prepared in the slightest for the amount of attention he got when he took of his shirt and got into the pool. He’d learned to swim years ago as a necessity, When they were younger Dudley had seemed to enjoy pushing Harry into anything that might lead to his drowning. So it was literally a do or die situation.

His body was littered with scars – from the basilisk, Pettigrew, a couple of small burns or cuts from the Dursleys that never healed, the one from the killing curse – but Sirius told him they made him look cool. Harry wasn’t completely sure of that, but there was no way in hell he would spend another minute of his life behind some mask or another.

He had just gotten in, wadding calmly to the deeper end and testing the strength of his new muscles, when a girl that looked around his age had swam up to him. Harry was surprised to realise that she was flirting with him, he knew a month ago he probably wouldn’t have picked up on it but now it just seemed so obvious.

In any case, knowing she was flirting didn’t actually help him, he was still a red stuttering mess for the entirety of the conversation. Luckily for him, she thought it was cute and left after commenting that she’d see him around.

Harry had watched the girl – Lyla, she said her name was – swim back to her friends, all of them cheering and patting her on the back. She was blushing too now, so at least he wasn’t the only one.

The second they got back into the hotel room to change Sirius and Remus had teased him relentlessly about it. As you can imagine, Remus mostly stuck to teasing him about his brad new ‘game’, Sirius on the other hand trapesed around the room like a Shakespearian damsel, moaning about how he was loosing his “sweet innocent godson”.

The teasing had gone on throughout the entire shopping trip too, only getting worse when some guy had winked at Harry and handed him a slip of paper with his number on it.

Harry wanted to die, he was kind of enjoying it too, but he wanted to _die_. He didn’t think he’d ever blushed so hard in _life_.

The new “compliments” he had started receiving only spurred Sirius on, leaving the man determined to get him a whole new, holiday appropriate, wardrobe. Never mind the fact that both Remus and he had already been forced to suffer through _that_ experience not a week earlier. 

The only saving grace of the entire trip was the Magi-tech store. Before he’d left England Harry hadn’t even known such a thing existed. No pure-blooded magical, at least not a British one, had ever mentioned or expressed the desire to own anything of the sort; and no British muggleborn had ever been given the means to find out. According to Sirius, Magi-tech was widely accepted and available in the Americas, as well as the majority of Asia, it was only Europe stubbornly clinging onto their archaic traditions.

It wasn’t like the rest of the magical world had completely abandoned the olde ways either. Most communities still celebrated their ancient rights and holidays, just adapting and gladly taking to the developments muggles and magicals had made alike.

The shop they went into had a huge sign that looked as if it had been very shoddily stuck onto the building and was on the brink of toppling right off, reading “Nahua” in glowing neon letters. It wasn’t a very classy establishment, with plain granite floors and wires hanging out from every other crevice, but it somehow all worked.

“Pura Vida!” The women at the counter greeted, cheerfully coming around to meet them.

She was dressed in muggle dungaree shorts and a loose fitted green shirt underneath it. Her fingers were twiddling furiously with a bunch of wires in her hand, not stopping for a moment even as she met their eyes.

“Welcome to Nahua,” her voice was thickly accented, “The one stop shop for any and all magi-tech. How can I help you?”

Then Sirius started speaking Spanish and the women lit up with relief. Harry didn’t get a word of the conversation, a quick look to Remus told him that the werewolf sure as hell didn’t understand anything either, but they were quickly led to a section of the store where magic proof phones were on display. A few seconds of conversation and a cheery thanks later and the women was leaving them to their business.

“Arlyn, that’s the sales women, said that these are all the phones, the laptops are over there,” Sirius pointed to a section in the back, “and the television sets are up front.”

“I didn’t know you could speak Spanish.” Remus said with raised eyebrows, Harry nodded as well.

“Oh please, I speak English, Spanish, French, Bulgarian, Arabic, and Latin.”

“Sweet Merlin.” Harry said airily, “How the fuck’d you manage that?”

“I was the pureblood heir to the main branch of the Black family.” His wiry grin looked pained somehow, “In other words, my mum forced me.”

Remus just put an arm around his shoulders and gave him a short squeeze.

With visible effort, Sirius shook the sadness from his eyes. “Anyways, Harry, go pick out a phone. Doesn’t really matter what price.”

“Do you guys have phones?”

“Course we do.” Sirius answered before reaching into his merlin-damned fanny pack and pulling out a sleek iPhone. Remus sighed before grabbing his out of his right pocket. “They’re charmed to be unbreakable.”

“Cool. How about you guys go get the television set while I pick out a phone and then we can do the laptops together.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Remus grabbed Sirius’s arm and started dragging him up front.

There were rows and rows of the things, each one containing a different muggle brand that had been conditioned to work through magic. Harry drifted through the rows, trying his best to at least pretend he knew what he was looking for. It’s not like he actually knew anything about the phones or what made them good.

One had eleven gigabytes of memory – was that a lot? – and an option to extend it. That one could be an option. To be totally honest, Harry didn’t really care that much, as long as the phone functioned properly he’d be happy.

That was how Remus and Sirius found him twenty minutes later: staring at the rows of phones with a confused expression on his face.

“Need some help there, Harry.”

“Please.”

“Well,” Remus started, “What is it you’re looking for?”

“Uh , I don’t really know. I just want it to work well, I guess.”

“Ah, then you’ll be wanting one of these.” He handed Harry a black Samsung.

“Moony!” Sirius sounded scandalised.

“Shut up, Padfoot. I don’t care how ‘great’ iPhones are. Harry said he wants a phone that works, not one that needs to be charged every ten minutes.”

“But- but.”

“The only thing superior about iPhones are their cameras and you know it.”

Sirius simply sniffed and looked away, crossing his arms in the same way an offended grandmother might.

“Alright then, I’ll take it.”

Sirius glared at him in betrayal, but there was some level of mirth in his eyes so Harry easily let it roll off his back.

The laptop picking process went much smoother, with Remus picking an ASUS and Sirius a MacBook. Harry chose a laptop from the “Hp” brand for no other reason then the fact that it mildly amused him to have his initials on the computer.

Arlyn made quick work of shrinking everything and applying the standard charms (Harry later found out that those were unbreakable charms, anti-theft charms, and some other recent development that allowed them to pick up even the faintest of signals as if they were stood right next to the source), almost giving Harry a heart attack when she did it all without a wand.

He opened his mouth to ask, but then he noticed the way she was only casting with her right hand. He looked closer and there, right on her middle finger was a very magical looking ring. Oh, he highly doubted anyone else would catch it, it was in no way obvious. But the ring just emitted the same sort of something he usually felt from wands, like all the magic in her was being pulled straight though it and into the world.

Even though he had figured out how she was doing it, it didn’t make him any less confused. Did this mean Costa Rican magicals didn’t use wands at all? Or maybe it was just that they had more options? He’d only been here for two days, and none of the Arayas had done any magic around him at all, so he supposed it wasn’t too shocking that he didn’t know the ins and outs of Costa Rican wizarding culture.

Harry resolved to ask Sirius how it worked as soon as possible.

“Sirius, was she doing magic with her ring just then?” He asked the second they left Arlyn’s hearing range.

“Yeah, she was. Here in Costa Rican they tend to be a lot less strict about magical foci. Sure, some people still chose to use wands, but they’re in the minority. Elladora, for example, uses a wand, but her wife uses a bracelet.”

“But how does it _work_?”

“Something about the usual wand cores being infused into other objects, I’m not too sure. I’ll get you a book on it later.”

And then Harry shocked himself by getting exited. Usually, when anyone mentioned reading he got a headache. That probably had something to do with the blocks on his mind, though. Now that he was free it seemed that he’d also unlocked a hidden passion for books.

Hadn’t Ganzi said something about doing better on his O.W.L.s?

Well, Harry certainly wasn’t going to complain if he suddenly enjoyed studying. Hermione would be thrilled, Ron… less so.

“Do you two want to get anything else?”

“No!” Harry and Remus said in unison. They’d had enough shopping for perhaps the next decade, maybe two – if they were lucky.

“Oh, alright.” Sirius pouted. “Let’s head back then, it’s almost dinner anyway.”

 

 

After Dinner, which was they had at a little restaurant on the beach, Sirius and Remus retired to their room to do… _stuff_ , while Harry got started on setting up his phone. Arlyn had done most of the hard work, so it was really just him fucking around for twenty minutes to figure out how to use it. Once he found google, though, everything became a hundred times easier.

Anytime he couldn’t do something, he just looked it up.

Eventually, Harry decided that he knew enough and walked over to the desk where he’d scribbled down Alex’s number yesterday on a piece of paper before washing it off his arm. Harry looked back and forth at the paper then the phone as he typed out the number.

He hoped that he’d eventually get better at the whole typing thing, Sirius said he’d started out slow as well.

**_Harry:_ ** _Hey Alex, this is Harry._

Harry puffed out his cheeks and stared at the message after clicking send, he hoped it was the right thing to type. Now all he could do do was wait for a reply. It was only ten o’clock, so he highly doubted Alex was asleep already.

Five minutes later, Harry was proven right when his phone vibrated.

**_Alex_ ** _: Heyy, you got the phone_

**_Alex_ ** _: So can you come out with us on Saturday?_

**_Alex_ ** _: you can meet me at the shop and I’ll take you to the place._

**_Harry_ ** _: yeah, I can come. Who is coming, by the way? And where are we going?_

**_Alex_ ** _: just three of my friends, Mia, Elani, and Andrés._

**_Alex_ ** _: and we r going to a house party, so I guess there will be a lot of other people too._

**_Alex_ ** _: But it’s just us going as a group._

**_Harry_ ** _: Okay, see you then._

**_Alex_ ** _: :)_

Harry felt like he should get an award – a little medal engraved with the words: ‘I survived my first text conversation’ – Actually, now that he thought about it, he should probably keep the idea to himself. Merlin knows that if he ever let it slip to his godfathers, Sirius would have one actually made.

Harry shivered at the thought of Sirius hosting an award ceremony to present it to him.

He would rather face the bloody horntail again then deal with _that_.

 

 

The rest of the week flew by, each new day brining more information for Harry.

On Wednesday Sirius got  him that book on magical foci, which Harry absolutely _devoured_. According to _There’s more to it then wands_ by Marietta Arcwood nearly anything could be turned into a foci if one knew the rules. All you needed to do was find a wood that worked with your core, a simple enough process seeing as all you had to do was go to a wand garden (a field with rows of different types of trees suitable for foci) and feel out which one you wanted to go with, you were then free to take a branch. Then you needed a core, or at least what would be called a core if it were placed inside a wand, again it was as simple as entering a core shop and feeling out what worked best with your magic. You could then have the two pieces, along with any other material, grafted into whatever you wished.

Of course, magic could be done without any foci at all, but it took a near impossible amount of control and an abundance of power. It was simply easier for most magicals to use a piece of wood, which connected the magic to a piece of the earth, and a magical core, which drew the magic out.

Harry hadn’t put the book down at all, fully embracing his brand new status as a book worm, he’d even gotten Remus to glamour it so he could read by the pool. The one thing that managed to draw his attention away from magical foci was Lyla dropping into the deck chair next to him.

At first he hadn’t even noticed her, but a soft cough from her had him looking up in confusion. The second he caught sight of her smiling face though, his brown skin blushed red.

“You’re really into that book, ain’t ya?” She laughed.

“Um, yeah. it’s really interesting so far.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, unknowingly mimicking his Father. Sirius, who had been watching his godsons epically bad flirting from the pool, chocked. He snapped his head to Remus, who nodded and gripped his arm as if to say: _Yeah, I saw it too_.

Harry and Lyla talked for nearly an hour about this and that, mostly staying on the topic of books. Harry was absolutely delighted to find out that Lyla was a huge chemistry nerd, managing to badger her into promising him some beginners lessons. Through some miracle that was probably due to his newly unbound brain, Harry had easily managed to steer the conversation away from what book he was reading with almost no difficulty, apparently he was finally putting his Slytherin potential to good use.

When her friends eventually called her over she smiled and waved goodbye, calling out a promise to introduce them all tomorrow as she went. Almost immediately, Sirius and Remus were at his side with matching shit-eating grins, Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. The rest of the day was filled with Harry answering their questions and putting up with their teasing.

 

 

 

Thursday brought news from England, according to the daily prophet there was a nation wide panic as everyone scrambled to find him. Costa Rica, of course, knew exactly where he was and offered absolutely no information at all when English ministry officials flood in to ask if they’d seen him. Archon had swung round the hotel later that day and told them all, through fits of giggles, how frustrated the English ministry officials were getting.

Harry had also learned why none of the muggles at the hotel seemed to care that the notorious madman Sirius Black was chilling out in plain sight. The Costa Rican ministry of magic had placed a specialised glamour on him that only affected those without a magical core; to muggles he looked like a nondescript blond man.

 

 

Friday found an exhausted Pigwidgeon flying through the hotel window with three letters in his tiny beak. Harry couldn’t have been more exited, he quickly found the bird a bowl of water and exchanged it for the letters. One from Dumbledore, one from Hermione, and another from Ron.

He picked Dumbledore’s one up first, eyeing it with distaste but sliding his thumb under the wax seal nevertheless.

_Harry, my dear boy,_

_I hope this letter finds you in good health. I was contacted by your aunt a few days ago and she told me the most disturbing news. She said that you had run away in the middle of the night without even so much as a goodbye._

_I have to say I’m very disappointed in you._

_I would not have expected this kind of behaviour from you, Harry, and I’m sure your parents would have not liked it either. You have caused all your friends, as well as the rest of the order, great stress. Your Godfather is so distraught he has locked himself in a room with Buckbeak and not come out in days. We have tried to check on him but the Black ancestral home refuses to allow us entrance, Kreacher has told us he is receiving regular meals but we still worry._

_If you come back immediately I’m sure he would come out._

_Please Harry, return._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore._

For a moment or two Harry just stared at the paper, then he burst into a fit of giggles. Dumbledore seriously thought Sirius (Hah!) was still locked in a room. That was fucking _everything_. Sirius was going to die of laughter when he showed him this, Harry couldn’t wait until his godfathers got back from their date.

He was a little pissed off though, how fucking _dare_ Dumbledore try and use his parents against him. From everything Sirius and Remus had said, his parents would have found what he did hilarious and they would most definitely approve. He almost debated drawing a crude hand gesture and sending that back as a reply.

Harry sighed and picked up Hermione’s, hopefully this letter wouldn’t make him want to burn something.

_Harry,_

_Dumbledore has told us you’ve run away from the Dursleys, he seemed really angry about it but I think it’s amazing. Ron and I were working on a way to sneak out of the house and get you out ourselves, but I guess you beat us to it._

_You don’t have to tell us where you are, but can we at least know that you’re safe? Also Sirius has locked himself in a room with Buckbeak and I think a letter confirming your safety will really help him._

 

_We haven’t been able to get any information from the order, they ward that room to hell and back now that they know about the extendable ears._

_Write soon._

_Love,_

_Hermione._

_P.S don’t let anyone else touch the letter, we got Fred and George to spell it so no one else can read it without going blind for forty eight hours._

They’d been trying to come get him.

Harry couldn’t stop smiling, he’d been mad at first. He had thought they’d completely forgotten about him, or that they just didn’t care. But they had been trying to come get him.

He grabbed Ron’s letter.

_Harry,_

_YOU ESCAPED THE DURSLEYS!! Great job, mate. I’m sure ‘Mione told you about how we were trying to get out of this hell hole to come rescue your sorry arse. The wards the order has put up are Impossible to break, so we’re stuck here until further notice (or until Dumbledore decides to let us out), it is very frustrating._

_No info from the order._

_Fred and George say congratulations. Ginny says to have fun wherever you are and not to listen to Dumbledore. Charlie wanted me to tell you he liked your performance at the first task and Bill said to tell you that Fleur told him that you were great._

_Mum is really pissed about you running away though, I have no clue why though. She keeps mumbling about how you are disobeying Dumbledore._

_I also wanted to ask for your advice. Last year’s Yule Ball really opened my eyes about Hermione and now I don’t know what to do. Mate help me, she’s so pretty and I turn into a stuttering mess at least twice a day. Should I tell her how I feel? Should I just jump off a cliff?_

_Anyway, right back and tell me if your safe,_

_Ron._

_P.s my letter has the same enchantments as Mione’s._

Thank Merlin Ron finally got his head out of his arse and admitted to being head over heels for Hermione (he didn’t exactly say that, but Harry’s new smart brain was putting all the clues together), if he had to go through another year of dealing with his constipated feelings Harry would blow a fuse.

“Harry! We’re home!” Sirius shouted from the other side of their joint door.

“I got some letters!”

Remus and Sirius spoke at the same time.

“Do you need some parchment?”

“What did they say?”

“Come over and read Dumbledore’s! And yes please on the parchment.”

The door swung open quickly after that.

“What did that old goat say?” Sirius said, letter already in hand. Remus simply placed his head on Sirius’s shoulder and read over it. Sirius’s expression went from highly amused to downright fuming and, even though the full moon was two weeks away, Remus’s eyes were burning amber.

Then, at the same time, they both took a deep breath. Was that a thing that happened when you’ve known a person for forever? You just… sync up?

“First of all, fuck him for even bring _up_ Lily and James. Second of all, he still thinks Sirius is holed up in that room?” He burst out into a fit of giggles.

“I know right?” Harry snorted, “You can’t read Ron’s or ‘Mione’s, they hexed it. But the gist of it is they’re happy I got out, and Ron needs help with gaining out dear ‘Mione’s affection.”

“Finally realised he’s in love with her?” Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“Yep.” He popped the ‘p’ at the end, “Now hand me some parchment and a pencil, I’m sketching a middle finger as a reply.”

Responsible guardians probably wouldn’t have let him send his headmaster a vulgar gesture.

Remus passed him a piece of paper.

Sirius offered to model.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet ya'll though I was gonna bash Ron and Hermione, tbh I was going to but I just couldn't make myself do it. Dumbledore is still a dick though. 
> 
> Thoughts down below please.


	4. Life of the party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ya'll,  
> Guess who's back. (it's me), i know my updating scheduled is sketchy at best and i'm literally writing this in History class, but i'm trying. This ones basically just the party on Saturday and the day after and is, like, 1000 words shorter then usual so sorry about that. Also can i just say that all your comments and kudos mean the world to me, i smile like an idiot every time i get one.  
>  \- Love, Nadzi

Harry almost couldn’t believe it was already Saturday.

The sun was shining through the window, warming the cool hotel room nicely. He would certainly miss this, the warmth, when they left for England. He’d have to find a spell, or salve, or something, because he wasn’t giving up his tan for anything. Barely four days of sun and his skin had darkened considerably to a warm honey brown instead of the usually ashy complexion he sported due to England’s lack of sun.

He didn’t want to wake up – he really, really didn’t – but the sun was up and Aunt Petunia had made sure he could never sleep past sunrise.

Remus and Sirius wouldn’t be up yet, not for two more hours at least, and breakfast didn’t start until eight, so he could get ready as slowly as he wanted.

And if there was one thing Harry hated, it was rushing. Back at the Dursleys he’d barely had a moment alone, what with all the cleaning or cooking he was made to do, even when he _was_ alone he was locked in his dirty cupboard. And the few minutes he was allowed in the bathroom were hectic, always trying to scrub a weeks’ worth of dirt before Petunia inevitably dragged him out and lectured him about wasting their water.

So now he took his time, he emptied half a bottle of bubble bath soap they’d bought yesterday before flipping the tap of the bath on and grabbing his phone so he could wait for it to fill.

He was quickly realising just how much he’d missed out on back in England. It was slow going, but with help from Lyla and various texts to Alex, Harry had managed to set up the few essential social media accounts and a WhatsApp. He now had an Instagram – username: ScarHead, Malfoy would find that hilarious – a snapchat – username: LordPotter, Lyla didn’t believe he was actually a lord –  a Tumblr – username: TheChosenOne, he was running out of ideas – and a twitter – username: HJPotter, he had run out of ideas. Lyla didn’t have a face book and Alex thought it was dying anyway, so he didn’t bother setting one up. They also helped him navigate the different social media and gave him lists of people to follow, including but not limited to: Alex and all his friends, Lyla and all her friends – most of whom Harry had met and got along well with despite the fact that he was the only male in the friend group – and various celebrities.

He was took a picture of the almost full bubble bath and posted it to his snapchat story before switching the tap off. The sleep shirt along with his boxers came off relatively quickly after that and Harry yelped when he dipped his toe in the bath.

“Ow, fuck, that’s bloody hot.” He snatched his wand of the bathroom counter and muttered a cooling charm at the water, sighing in relief when his flesh failed to singe as he dipped his toe in again.

He sighed again, this time in contentment, when his entire body was in the water.

Life, if only for this moment, was good.

 

 

“I am not wearing those jeans, Alex, you can’t make me!”

“Yes you bloody well will,  Harry James Potter!” Alex’s voice was shaking with laughter through the phone. Harry had placed it on his night stand and put it on speaker while he dug through his suitcase. The suitcase he still hadn’t unpacked despite the fact that they’d been in Costa Rica for almost a week.

“They have holes in them.”

“They are ripped jeans, you idiot.”

“Holes!” Harry pointed out, again.

“You look amazing in them.”

“But they have, _holes_.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now put them on!”

“I will not!”

“you will!”

“Not!”

“You will or I’ll call Sirius on you.”

 

 

 

Harry wore the jeans.

Miraculously, or not that miraculously if you take Sirius’s personality into account, Harry had been allowed to walk Elladora’s by himself. He muttered as he went, cursing Alex and the ripped jeans Sirius had forced him to buy last week.

Compared to the morning sun, the night was icy. Wind nipped at his legs through the holes in his pants and he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jean jacket to prevent frost bite. The night sky here were more beautiful then the one at Hogwarts, it looked like someone had painted a concentrated trail of stars across the inky black darkness of space.

The second he stepped into the boundaries of Meridia the cold dissipated and Harry was able to slip out of his jacket without losing feeling in his arms.

Alex was waiting for him when he approached the restaurant, standing and talking to three other teenagers, he lit up when he spotted Harry, then smirked when he saw the ripped jeans.

“Harry!” He spread his arms out in welcome, “Glad to see you in those jeans.”

“Oh fuck off, Alex, I almost froze my legs off on the way here.”

“A small price to pay.” He waved off Harry’s glare. “Meet my friends. Mia, the aspiring dragon tamer. Elani, most people round here call her the temptress. And Andrés, our local nerd.” Alex pointed out each of them respectively.

 When Harry looked at Mia he wondered for a moment if all dragon tamers had that look in their eyes, it was the same one he’d seen on Charlie Weasley, something that almost looked like a burst of fire when they turned their heads just so. It was almost scary. Mia looked nothing like Charlie, from the Long bleached locks to her dark skin, but Harry could have sworn they were the same person.

He could also see just why Elani had been coined the temptress. She was stunning. Long chocolate brown hair that fell to her hips and hooded eyes and this unearthly allure about her that made Harry sure there was at least some Veela heritage there. She reminded him of Fleur, beautiful, but definitely dangerous.

Andrés looked nothing like a local nerd. He was built, taller then Harry even, which was harder to achieve after the miracle that was goblin healing, the softest looking hair Harry had ever seen, and midnight blue eyes behind wireless glasses. The only thing that really gave his nerdy status away was the large tome clutched in his hands.

Hermione would love the guy.

“Nice to meet you all.” Harry smiled at them.

“ooh, he’s so _formal_.” Mia giggled.

“No, he’s just British.” Elani stepped forward and placed a hand on his chest, pushing him playfully, and then Harry understood. Elani didn’t just look the part of a temptress, no, she played it as well. Harry blushed.

“Elani, you know you can’t tease people until they have a chance to build up an immunity to your charms.” The girl pouted at Andrés’s words but moved back, he then turned to Harry, “Don’t worry, dude, no one’s immune to Elani at first.”

“I’m an acquired taste.”

“More like a poison you have to build up a tolerance to.” Andrés snorted when Elani pouted again.

Harry laughed and Alex through an arm over his shoulder, “Look at that, you fit right in.”

Elani and Andrés walked together, with Alex a few steps behind them playing a game on his phone, leaving Harry to walk with Mia. Turns out they had a lot in common, well, not really a lot but they were both seekers and thoroughly enjoyed comparing themselves to each other. Mia totally lost it though when she found out he knew Charlie Weasley.

“You know _Charlie Weasley_!?”

“Uh, yeah. His brother is my best mate.”

“What’s he like?” Her voice was almost reverent.

“Pretty cool, I guess. I’ve only seen him, like, twice.”

“ _Twice_!?”

“What’s so great about Charlie anyway?”

Ahead of them, Alex laughed, “Oh now you’ve gotten her started, Harry.”

Harry had just enough time to get out a confused “What?” before Mia started a rant on the wonders of Charlie Weasley.

 _“What’s so great about Charlie Weasley?_ He’s only _the best_ dragon handler since Newt fucking Scamander himself. They say it’s like he’s part dragon himself. Did you know the dragons let him _ride_ them? Can you believe that? To ride a fucking dragon, _that’s_ the fucking dream right there. He works in Romania right now, largest reserve in the world, and apparently when he’s around nobody needs to stun the dragons because they just do what he _says_.”

“Holy shit, really?” Harry blinked in surprise, this seemed like something he should have found out about by know, what with how close he was to the family. Then again, if he had a mother like Mrs Weasley he wouldn’t tell her that he regularly rode dangerous fire-breathing lizards.

“Yeah. They give _presentations_ of him in Care of Magical Creatures.”

“Damn, if Charlie’s at Christmas this year we’re going to be having a _long_ conversation.”

“Harry, I would literally murder you if you didn’t.” She deadpanned.

“You can’t kill me, not even ol’ Voldie could accomplish that.”

Mia laughed, “Oh shut up.”

 

 

Soon enough they arrived outside the party. The door was flung open and drunk (or some who were very much on their way to being drunk) teenagers could be seen both in the house and on the lawn. It honest-to-Merlin looked like a scene from a movie. The windows were flashing different colours, Harry could feel the music pounding in his chest, some random guy was doing a keg stand; yep, it definitely looked like a scene from a movie.

Nobody questioned Harry’s presence, greeting him just the same as they greeted the rest of the group, with drunken hugs or incoherent cheers.

Apparently they were a little late. (Three hours late, Alex refused to show up before the party _really_ started.)

A plastic cup filled with some sort of alcohol was shoved into Harry’s hand by another friend of Alex’s who’s name he couldn’t hear over the music.

“What is this?” He shouted, gesturing at the cup.

“Firewhiskey, I think there’s some Smirnoff in there as well.” They boy shouted back.

“Thanks.” The boy nodded and flashed him a dopey grin before turning away.

Harry didn’t even have a second to stand around and feel awkward before he was pulled into a large circle by Alex. The room they were in was a further away from the dance floor so the music was in the background instead of shattering his eardrums.

“We’re playing never have I ever, you in?”

“Yeah, sure.” Hermione had once had half their year in Gryffindor playing it, most of the third years quickly got bored when they realised they hadn’t done much, so the game itself only lasted twenty minutes but still, it had been fun.

“Cool, the rules are you drink if you’ve done it.”

“Got it.” Harry nodded, they had just put down their fingers in third year but it wasn’t too much of a drastic change.

“Let’s start then.” Alex’s eyes widened, “Oh, by the way, everyone this is Harry. Harry this is Jonah, Beatrice, Anna, and Derek. You already know those three.”

Mia, Elani, and Andrés waved at him, he waved back.

Beatrice volunteered to go first, “Never have I ever… had sex.”

Alex, Elani, Jonah, Mia and Derek drank.

Anna went next, “Never have I ever kissed a boy.”

This time everyone except Harry, Anna, and Derek drank.

“Wait a minute,” Andrés pointed an accusatory figure in Jonah’s face, “You said you were straight!”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t get drunk one night and –“

“That’s enough of that!” Anna cut him off. “Nobody want to hear about your tumbles in the sheets.”

“Well that is a blatant lie.” Jonah pouted.

“Back to the game.” Anna said in reply.

Derek smirked, “never have I ever given anyone a blowjob.”

Alex, Elani, and Andrés clinked their glasses together before throwing down the alcohol.

Then it was Harry’s turn, “Um, never have I ever kissed anyone?”

The group erupted into various forms of protest and denial. They were staring at him in disbelief and confusion, Their faces something akin to horror at the revelation. A small whisper of “What the fuck?” sounded from Beatrice.

“Are you serious?” Mia looked like she was having an internal breakdown.

“Uh, yeah. What’s the big deal?”

“You’re telling me _no one_ has tried to get on all _that?_ ” Elani was in shock, “Come here, then. I will correct this grievous mistake.”

Harry blushed deep red as Elani continued to make grabby motions from her side of the circle. How she’d gotten drunk so fast – they’d only arrived half an hour ago! – was beyond him.

“Well, I didn’t really have _time_ to go looking for love thanks to my regular near-death experience.”

“Harry, my dude, tonight.” Alex paused, and then, with conviction in his slightly slurred voice, “ _Tonight_ we get you laid.”

Andrés raised his glass, “To getting Harry laid!” they all, including a blushing (and definitely tipsy) Harry, raised their own cups and echoed his toast.

“Any preference on gender?” Mia asked.

“Either.” Harry threw back another shot, he needed some liquid courage to keep this conversation going.

“Perfect.” Alex said.

They continued playing then, the questions getting more and more silly as time wore on. Harry only drank once or twice before they concluded the game. At the end of it, Elani and Derek were both drunk off their asses while the rest of them were just pleasantly buzzed.

“Okay. That’s just about enough of that.” Alex summoned a few cups and a pitcher of water before pouring them all a glass. Sober up, it’s time for ruth or dare time.” Alex turned and pinned Harry with a mischievous smile.

Elani almost jumped out of her position on Mia’s lap, “I call asking first!”

Everyone nodded.

“Harry.” He gulped, “Truth or dare?”

He was a Gryffindor, there wasn’t really a choice here. “Dare.”

Something in her smile made him think that was the wrong choice.

“I… _Dare_ … you… to kiss Alex for two minutes. With tongue!”

Everyone cheered, including a smirking Alex. Anna grabbed her phone and set a timer.

Alex was sitting right next to Harry, so he barely had to turn his head before his lips were being attacked by Alex’s.  Harry could barely remember what happened next, all he knew was that Alex was very close and his tongue was touching his own. And Harry really, really liked it. Somehow Harry’s hands ended up tangled in Alex’s Hair and the rest of his body ended up in Alex’s lap, Harry didn’t really care, he was having the time of his life.

They were, in Harry’s opinion, rudely interrupted when Andrés and Derek yanking them apart.

“Hey!” He protested, echoed by an equally annoyed Alex.

“We’ve been trying to get you to stop for the last five minutes.” Giggled Elani, “I said kiss, not have a full on make out session.”

Everyone laughed as Harry, for what felt like the hundredth time that night, blushed.

“You sure that was your first kiss?” Alex said after they all calmed down.

“Yep.”

“Well god _damn_ , I wonder how good you’ll be after a bit of practice.”

“Isn’t it time to move on, someone else ask a question, please.” Harry pleaded.

“Alright alright, it’s my turn next.” Mia said,  “Hmm, Beatrice, truth or Dare?”

“Uh, Truth.” She answered.

“Out of everyone in the circle, who would you most want to do the nasty with?’

“Do the nasty? Really, Mia, _really_?” Derek said.

“Take a tumble in the sheets, make love, fuck, whatever. Who would it be Beatrice?”

“Oh, definitely Harry.” She winked at him, taking a slow sip of her water while maintaining eye contact.

Andrés turned a devious eye on Harry, “My turn!”

The game went on for another hour. All of them were only a little drunk by the end of it and Harry had kissed everyone in the circle at least once; according to the group they were trying to catch him up. They had, surprisingly, all stuck mostly to dares, so everyone had done more then a few stupid stunts. Though, Harry did have to answer what was his favourite near death experience so far, to which he replied the werewolf time travel fiasco that was his third year.

“Alright,” Chirped Elani, getting up not without a small stumble, “Imma go dance now. You guys wanna come?”

There was a general noise of agreement from the group as they all stood up and collectively staggered out of the room. The party was still in full swing, only with the addition of several passed out people on every available surface you could viably pass out on.

The main dance floor, or the living room, was stuffed with people. All dancing, bouncing, or swaying in place to the beat. Their group blended in seamlessly. Harry had never danced like this before, but with the alcohol in his system and the music in his ears, it was easy to just let go and move with the crowd. Alex came up next to him and it only seemed natural when they started dancing together, moving in time and sharing grins.

The magical lighting made Alex’s brown eyes sparkle and Harry wasn’t even surprised when he found himself pressed against the wall with Alex nipping at his lips. He wasn’t too worried about the fact that they were surrounded by people, mostly because at least six other couples were doing the exact same thing.

“You want to come to my house?” Alex asked between kisses.

“Aren’t your parents’ home?”

“Shit, yeah.”

“We could go to my hotel room. Cast a silencing spell.”

“Fuck yeah, let’s go.”

 

 

Harry woke up with a headache.

He also woke up with an arm slung around his waist and soft breaths against his neck.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” Alex’s voice was hoarse from sleep, and… other activities.

When they’d gotten back to the room last night they barely took the time to cast a silencing spell before they were on each other. Harry knew that if he were a muggle, and such things Episkeys didn’t exist, he’d be as sore in the arse as he was in the head.

“Morning’” Harry yawned around his words, snuggling further into Alex’s, very warm, arms.

“Glad to see you’re not freaking out over last night.”

“m’ not. Now shut up, I want to sleep in today.”

He was fast asleep before he could hear Alex chuckle.

 

 

When they eventually got out of bed nearly three hours later, only leaving the hotel room an hour after that due to a repeat of last night in the shower, breakfast was long past. Alex had had the foresight to text his parents his whereabouts last night, so he could stay as long as he wanted.

They were just in time for lunch, Sirius and Remus having saved them seats at the hotel restaurant. Or, more accurately, they had saved Harry a seat and hastily grabbed another chair when they spotted Alex. They sat down in complete silence, Harry doing his utmost best to not look either of his Godfathers in the eye.

Sirius smirked. “ _I_ know _that_ look.” He a hand out in front of his mate, “Pay up, Remus dear.”

“But we don’t even know if they did it yet!” Remus protested.

Harry raised an eyebrow, looking between them incredulously for a long moment, “Hold on, did you two seriously bet on whether or not we had _sex_?”   

Alex laughed beside him, “What did you expect, Harry.”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“Sorry pup.” Remus smiled sheepishly at the two of them, scowling again though when Sirius bumped him with his open palm.

“Give it up, moons.”

Remus groaned before looking at Alex and Harry with an expression that clearly stated _: Please, by some miracle of the gods, tell me you didn’t do it_. Harry’s face burned as he nodded, Alex, for his part, smiled smugly at the werewolf and threw an arm around the back of Harry’s chair.

The soft ‘oof’ sound Sirius made when Remus shoved the galleons into his chest made Harry giggle.

After that lunch passed easily, with chatter and laughter common between bites of food, and Alex was invited to dinner with them.

“Sure,” He said easily, “Mama said I just have to be home before tomorrow afternoon, so until then … I’m all yours.”


	5. attempts at exercise and she-demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo,  
> Guess who's back after a month of being completely useless. I literally wrote this chapter while doing physics, I am so tiered. Also I added like a bunch of original characters so if ya'll ever don't know who's, like, who let me know so i can edit that shit.  
> Kay, have fun with this then. Please give me comments I live for the validation of my peers.  
> Ta,  
> Nadzi.

“I hate you.” Harry scowled when his godfather just laughed at his sentiment.

“No you don’t, Prongslet. You hate running.”

“True, but I also hate you for making me do it.”

“Hey!” Sirius slowed down to jog next to a panting Harry, “I’m being forced into this damn regime too. Can you imagine what Remus would do to me if I didn’t, I’m not even going to _think_ about the hell Elladora would wreck if she found out I’ve been skipping training.” Harry’s answering laugh was barely more then a puff of air as he imagined Remus and Elladora teaming up to rip Sirius a new one.

He honestly hadn’t thought getting into exercise would hurt so much. They’d been doing these runs since last Monday, an entire week of it and the only show for it was aches all over his body. It was easy to imagine that the goblins had just made it as if his muscles were used to the exercise, but no, they’d just put them back together; they were still tight and unused to exertion, able to do more then before but not for long and not without a great amount of pain soon after.

Harry hated it.

But he was used to hard work and little to no rewards, now at least he was getting something out of his pain.

Or, at least, everyone _said_ he’d be getting something out of it ( _If he just stuck with it!)._

Elladora’s wife, Merina, had drawn up their new exercise schedules last Wednesday when she’d almost collapsed in shock upon finding out that they were _only_ doing running. At 67 she was still very much an active, high ranking auror and insisted that both Sirius and Harry follow the regime for junior aurors who were just joining the academy – “With all the trouble you two get into, you’ll need the defence training.” She’d laughed at their identical pouts – , Elladora and Remus had backed her fully and since then they’d been drafted into intense training designed to tone muscle and increase stamina.

Of course, being magical, there were potions and salves to help with recovery, but that just meant that they could be pushed even further.

And Merina was a strict instructor, no doubt, outside of the gym she was the most caring, lovely women Harry had ever met, perfectly paired with Elladora, but once the session began she was a demon in auror robes. She was waiting for them now, on the other side of the beach with a stopwatch in her hands. He could almost see the frown on her face as time crawled on and they continued to progress depressingly slowly.

Alex was here too. Well, he was exercising too, but he’d long since run out of Harry’s sight. According to him he’d been doing this for years now, Mia would be joining him next year, as Merina was determined to keep her grandchildren healthy; both her wife and daughter despised exercise so Alex and Mia were her last hope for exercise buddies.

Harry thought he was about to collapse, Sirius looked like he shared the feeling, when the figures of Merina and Alex chatting at the front of the hotel came into view.

“Oh, thank Merlin.” He said quietly to the sand.

“Two minutes faster then yesterday.” She smiled approvingly at Sirius and Harry, who both dropped to the sandy floor with dazed looks in their eyes, completely uncaring of the sand now stuck to their clothes and hair.

“Merina,” Sirius started, but paused for a moment when he couldn’t find the breath for his words, “you’re going to _kill_ us.”

“Not before I get you whipped into shape, I’m not.”

The animagus cursed, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “hell’s number one personal coach”.

Grandmother and grandson alike laughed in an almost identical way, clutching a specific spot on their side and throwing their head back just so before releasing a full bellied chuckle, at Sirius’s antics. Harry, even in his near-delirious post-workout state, thought it was unbearably cute.

The two spent some time berating them for their positions on the ground, going on and on and _on_ about the fact that they were doing more harm then good by not warming down. And, well, they were right, but if Harry tried to do even the slowest jog right now he’d end up with a face full of sand.

He groaned as he hauled himself up, trying with all his might not to fall right back down. Alex laughed again and moved forward to help him up.

“how’d you fight a basilisk if you can’t even manage an hour of running?”

Harry managed a scowl from under the mess of sandy hair that had flopped over his eyes, “A combination of Gryffindor courage and sheer dumb luck.”

“Definitely more of the latter.”

“Oh, _do_ shut up, Alexio – Ow Merlin, that _hurt_ , you arse.” Harry rubbed at the back of his head where Alex had thumped him.

“Well, it wouldn’t have hurt if you had called me Alex.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“ _I’m_ not the one who got sand all over his body even though he has a ten minute walk back to the hotel.”

Harry opened his mouth to retort, registered the words, and then threw his head back in a groan of despair. “I’m going to _die_.”

Alex smiled at his mini tantrum and, in response, Harry made his most pitiful face. It was unintentionally completely adorable, even with a tall muscled body (that didn’t seem to work like a muscled body should, but I guess we can blame that one on the mysteries of goblin magic) he kind of resembled a puppy.

A very sweaty, sandy puppy.

“You look like a puppy.” Alex pointed out.

Instantly, pleading eyes filled with outrage, “I do _not_.”

“You do, Prongslet.” Sirius laughed at the distinctly puppy-like glare Harry shot him, “You’d give ol’ padfoot a run for his money.”

“Ugh.” He said, before stomping – waddling, he was waddling – off towards the hotel.

“See you tomorrow, pingüino!” Alex shouted after him.

 

 

Harry loved the hotel bathroom with every fibre of his being; if he could, he’d spend the rest of his life lazing in a bath of warm water and bubbles.

Right now, however, he was freezing his way through an icy shower because, according to Merina, it would help him recover faster – which he would definitely need for tomorrow, seeing as how they were going to be working on their core.

He would have shivered at the thought of doing an hour’s worth of planks and crunches if he weren’t already shaking from the cold water.

Quickly, and not dropping his bar of soap _at all_ , Harry washed the grime and sand off his person, making doubly sure to get it out of all his… _crevices_. Muttering a steady stream of “Oh – ow – that’s so fucking cold – ow – geez”, he managed to finish in record time. His hand shot out to grab a fluffy white towel, wrapping it securely around his waist before reaching for a second towel and drying off his hair.

The rest of the room, thankfully, was a lot warmer due to the midmorning sun streaming in from the open balcony. The Costa Rican sun was a blessing in and of itself, all his life he’d been stuck under the bleary gloom of Surry, and the Dursley’s sure as hell never took him anywhere different, so he was amazed everyday as the rays actually provided warmth.

Once again, Harry found himself debating even going back to England at all. He had half a mind to just transfer to Castelobruxo, the South American wizarding school that Alex went to.

But no, he could never do that. He’d miss his friends too much, and he had a shit ton of unfinished business with nearly everyone of importance at the British ministry.

“Harry!” Remus shouted through the open doors connecting their rooms, “you’ve got mail.”

Fucking finally. He’d sent out his reply’s nearly a week ago.

“Just put it on the desk, I’ll be out in a minute!”

“Okay!”

“Thanks!”

Harry, still slightly unused to his newly lengthened limbs, tripped in his haste to get to the letters. Of course, it may have had something to do with the fact that his shirt was stuck on top of his head, but that’s neither here nor there.

Like before, he picked up Hermione’s letter first.

_Dear Harry,_

_I can’t believe you still haven’t told Professor Dumbledore your safe. I know you can’t tell us your location via letter but the poor man is going mad trying to find you. It’s hilarious. Have you seen any British newspapers yet?  They are all attacking Dumbledore for loosing you and speculating like mad. One even said you’d run off to join a band with some relative of yours – a stubby boardman?_

_Also, can you ask Sirius if he ordered Kreacher to mimic his voice? Because every now and then someone will try and get in and what sounds like Sirius yells at them to go away._

_I’m sorry we couldn’t write sooner, Molly and Dumbledore have been practically breathing down our necks and working us to the bone! We’ve had to do practically all the cleaning up by hand even though nearly everyone here besides us is of age, it’s ridiculous! I swear, I wrote this letter by moonlight. It’s the only free moment I had! I almost can’t believe we managed to sneak off to send them out to you. Don’t even get me started on how little time I’ve had to study, I’ve only gotten through the first of the sixth year text books!_

_In your last letter you mentioned magical technology, how does that work? And why in the nine hells have I never heard of it? If you can, please, bring me back one. I’ll pay you back, I swear. But If I had internet at Hogwarts, my gods Harry, I think I’d die of happiness. Do you have a Instagram yet? My username’s GrangerDanger so follow me if you have an account._

_I am very pleased at your new attitude towards studying, Harry. I’m exited to finally have a study partner this year, between you and me maybe we can finally get Ron into a better grade standing. And, Harry, if you want to do alchemy we can petition for it together. I know Padma, Lisa, and Justin want to do it as well, we’ve been looking for a fifth student to make up the minimum class size._

_In his last letter did Ron seem odd? He’s been acting very odd. Every time we’re alone together he gets very… smiley. It’s weird, he hasn’t argued with me once! Is it weird that I miss arguing with him?_

_We have an update on order information, there have been more attacks, mainly on the muggles, but muggleborns and half-bloods have been targeted as well. The last time they caught us eavesdropping they lectured us for hours on how were just children and had no business being involved in this war. Can you believe it?! As if we haven’t been involved since we were ELEVEN. Do let us know if you somehow gain any_ _intelligence._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Of-bloody-course Ron acted like an idiot when trying to woo Hermione. Harry had _told_ him to take it slow, be subtle. Ron and Hermione basically spoke through their arguments, she must of thought he’d been doused with some sort of passivity potion if he hadn’t argued with her in two weeks.

And he didn’t even want to think about how much of a headache taking up Ancient Runes would be, he’d have to learn two years’ worth of material in under two months. It would be hell, but the class just looked too damn interesting to resist. Curse his new knowledge driven brain.

Alchemy was the only class, besides DADA that he was actually exited about taking, according to Hermione it was a mix of transfiguration, potions (Which, as he had discovered last Tuesday, he was now freakishly good at), and muggle Chemistry (he was also really good at this, thanks to Lyla’s impromptu lessons).

Harry leaned over to grab a pen and notepad, jotting down a reminder to ask Sirius about the Kreacher thing as well as what information was safe enough to send via owl before looking around for his phone. Opening up Instagram with a speed usually only know to those who’d been using it all their lives, Harry quickly typed in Hermione’s username before clicking follow. He’d bet she’d find his username either hilarious or wildly inappropriate, one of the two. She was on private so he’d have to wait to see any of her posts, but her profile picture looked really well done.

Placing his phone back on the desk, he grabbed for the letter with Ron’s depressingly messy handwriting .

_Dear Harry,_

_I don’t think Hermione likes me back. Every time I try to be nice to her she gets this weird look on her face, I don’t know what to do???? Help??_

_Besides that, do you mind kidnapping me? Please? If I have to fend off one more bloody doxie I’m just going to hand myself right over to Voldemort. Harry, I am begging you, take me away from this place. Please._

_I’m sure Hermione filled you in on all the shite we found out about the order so I won’t write it over again, but I am pissed off, you would be too. Mate, they said we had no business being involved in the war. WE have no business. Are they insane? You have been at the centre of this war since you were born, and they think we’re not going to stick up for you? They are crazy (P.s all my siblings minus Percy agree with me so you have the 6 of us on your side, seven if you count Hermione).._

_Are you seriously taking up Alchemy? I was shocked enough when I got Hermione as a friend, and now my other best friend turns out to be a closeted bookworm. Ugh, I’m going to have to start actually trying aren’t I, I have a feeling I’ll be spending a lot of time in the library this year._

_Anyway I’ll see you on the train, yeah? Keep me posted on anything cool that happens where ever it is you are._

_Ron._

Harry was not crying – Oh, who was he kidding he’d started crying, both tears of laughter and joy, half way through Ron’s admittedly short letter.

Sometimes it just… it just really hit him that he had found friends who really, truly cared about _him._ It was never something he thought he’d find, what with the Dursleys manipulation and then the revelation of his fame, he’d always just assumed that people would either hate him based on their lies or love him based on false accounts of his heroism. But then came Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the Weasleys, even Neville to a certain extent and proved him wrong.

He doubted they could kidnap Ron, but he added it to the list of questions to ask Sirius anyway.

A sigh escaped his lips as he picked up the one full of swirling green ink, he half wanted to just toss it out the window but a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Hermione told him that it would be highly immature and don’t you dare Harry James Potter –

_My dear boy,_

_Though I know you are still alive due to your last letter, I fear you are entirely vulnerable where ever you are. I implore you, please, return to your aunts house, you have only weeks now, before the blood magic dies out. Your last letter was very disrespectful and I worry that you have already been corrupted._

_Your Godfather has not left his room since you left, surely you do not want to cause him anymore suffering, after all he’s been through?_

_Please, my boy, put an old man’s mind at rest._

_Come home._

_Albus Dumbledore_

“Harry!” Remus shouted through the open door, “Harry, why are you cackling?”

“A few more weeks and any chance of sending me to the Dursleys is null and void!”

A cheer sounded from the conjoined room, along with what sounded like the start off Sirius suggesting they go clubbing, followed by a sharp smack and a yelp of pain. Sometimes Harry wondered if Remus and Sirius were his Godparents, or whether he and Remus were _Sirius’s_.

 

 

 

“So, if the forward reaction is exothermic and you increase the temperature, the reaction will shift towards the reactants?”

“Yep.” Lyla smiled, pointing at the chemistry textbook she had, for some unknown reason, brought with her on holiday, “And an increased pressure will shift the reaction in favour of the side with less molecules.”

“Got it.”

“You know, it took me literally months to get this far into the syllabus, and sometimes I still get confused as hell. How are you getting this so _easily_?”

“Um, well…” How do you explain to someone that your mind had been magically meddled with by  goblins and as a result you got a practically eidetic memory, _especially_ if that person was a muggle?

“And, ugh, you said you’d never learnt _any_ of this before?” She looked like she wanted to pull her hair out.

“Uh, sorry?” He tried

“When you win some award for contribution to the field of science or something, I am expecting an honourable mention.” She held a finger up to his nose and gave him a mock glare.

“You got it, Lyla.”

He was honestly blessed to have ever come across Lyla. Originally they’d been in that weird ‘we almost dated’ phase, but honestly they just got along too well for that to ever hold up for long. To be fair though, after their first interaction, they’d never really felt inclined to see each other that way. The girl was kind of crazy – what kind of person brought their chemistry textbook to Costa Rica? A crazy person, that’s who – but ever since the goblins Harry was a little unhinged too.

He thought, and sometimes spoke, too fast for most people too keep up with him now, but Lyla, the darling, somehow managed to catch every word and respond in kind. She gave off the same kind of vibe that Hermione did, and Harry knew if he ever introduced them Lyla might just steal Her away from Ron. She was also completely and totally down to teach Harry, some guy she had met two weeks ago, the entire GCSE chemistry syllabus. Which in and of itself made her one of a kind.

Her friends – Elanor, Maddie, Anya, and Lana – who often joined them, were off either swimming or lounging on beach chairs. Usually they either helped him with chemistry or cajoled him into learning one of the other two sciences, none of them mentioning how weird it was that he hadn’t even learned the basics at age 15.

They were, Harry decided, the best sort of people out there.

He liked Biology, it was interesting if not a bit of a headache due to all the ridiculously complicated names for everything. But physics was the stuff of nightmares, in all honesty he’d probably be alright with it if he ever had a secondary math education, but he hadn’t, and so it was a complete and total disaster. When he’d mentioned his lack of understanding at basic algebra the girls had almost had a heart attack, it was the biggest reaction his oddities had earned him so far.

And that was how he ended up being given a crash course to secondary school, two hours every other day, on top of his physical and magical training.

Hermione would be _so_ jealous.

He still had time for fun, though, with both his new magical and muggle friends, sometimes even all together (though these times were always in muggle dominated areas). Lyla and the girls had dragged him all over the place, from several theatres to a trek in the rainforest. While Alex had taken him to another party – apparently these were exceedingly common during summer break – and a secret hide out or two for their more… explicit activities.

Elani had also managed to get into his pants. It was during a game of truth or dare where everyone had gotten way too much fire whisky into their systems and the dares started going off the rail. To be perfectly honest he was pretty sure that everyone involved in the game had gotten into his pants at some point or another. Alex, thank Merlin, didn’t really give a damn. Which was definitely okay with Harry; he liked Alex, and the sex was great, but they had decided early on that they’d be better off as friends with benefits than trying to make a relationship work across the ocean. He was more then glad to know that there would be no jealousy from either ends.

Sirius found it bloody hilarious, he would make a joke at least twice a day about how quickly he had started rubbing off on Harry. Remus would make the same statements, except with exaggerated sighs and groans at the ceiling. Harry had the distinct feeling that nobody at Hogwarts would believe him if he told them even half of what happened – or maybe they would, most of them believed anything that came from a half credible source.

“Harry!” Anya had just come out of the pool and flopped herself onto a deck chair next to the one Harry and Lyla were studying on, “What are you mastering today?”

“Chemistry.”

“Ugh Anya, he got reversible reactions like that.” Lyla snapped her fingers, “He’s so _good_.”

Anya laughed, “We realised that a week ago.”

“I’m not that good – “

“Harry, we’ve been doing this for less then two weeks and you have picked up almost a years’ worth of material. You’re not good, dude you’re a fucking genius.”

Harry blushed to the tips of his ears at Lyla’s words.

“And a cute one two.” He batted her hands away when she reached forwards to pinch his cheeks.

“Oh fuck of, the both of you.”

The girls laughed at his misery and he sincerely considered revising his statement on the content of their characters.

“Maddie, El, Lana!” Harry called out as he threw himself back on his and Lyla’s deck chair, “They’re bullying to me again.”

“Your six foot two, Harry. They don’t even come up to your shoulder!” Maddie yelled from the pool where she and the other two were still lounging, her voice held no sympathy for him what so ever.

The she-devils.

Harry threw a hand over his eyes and sighed in the most exaggerated manner possible, “The betrayal, the pain, the –“

“You look like a sad puppy.”

“Anya!” He sat up so quickly Lyla almost fell off the chair, “I am not a puppy!”

“Sure.”

“Fuck you.”

“Sure.”

Then they both burst out laughing.

“Anyway, Harry, you got any time for some maths?”

“Ugh, please no.”

Lyla punched him in the shoulder, “You’ve already bloody aced this portion of the chem syllabus, go do some math so you can figure out physics.”

“Fine, you’re lucky I like you.”

“Mhm, sure, go do your algebra.”

And with that Harry was dragged away to do past year papers with Anya for the next how ever long it took to figure out linear programming.

 

 

“This is an awful idea.”

“no it’s not.”

Harry turned to Alex and raised an incredulous eyebrow at him, “your grandmother is taking us to a big, secluded boulder. A boulder she wants us to fight on. She wasn’t us to _duel_. On a fucking boulder.” He shouted quietly at him, if Merina heard him complaining she’d probably make him do laps – _again_.

“Oh please, we have magic, she has magic, we’ll be fine.”

“If you throw me into the ocean I’m going to murder you.”

Alex snorted, “you can try.”

Harry opened his mouth to retort when Merina called out, “Boys! we’re here!”

With a skill perfected from years of listening to Petunia Dursley speak, Harry held back a groan.

Merina led the two of them up a series of boulders until they reached a large, flat topped one that was practically half in the sea. The waves lapped at the sides of the massive rock, and Harry honestly felt like he was in dramatic scene from a movie. They – Harry and Alex – were about to have a mock duel, the sky should have been cloudy and the waves ashy, you know, for pathetic fallacy purposes. But the son was only half hidden behind fluffy white clouds, casting rays of sunshine on the perfectly blue sea.

“Are you ready, boys?”

“We just, fire spells at each other until you call time?” Harry asked, and by their matching smirks he knew he was wrong.

“No. You stop when one of you is in the water.”

“Ugh, I knew it.”

Harry was not even the slightest bit confident in his ability to stay dry. Alex had been training with Merina since he got his conduit, a Alder ring inlayed with rougarou hair, and she’d been training him physically even longer than that.

All Harry had to compete with was goblin made muscle, a severe lack of stamina, four years’ worth of shoddy DADA classes, and a two week crash course in combative spells.

In other words, Harry was fucking screwed.

Merina waited for them to get into position, Alex on one end of the bolder and Harry on the other, before raising a small blue kerchief up in the air.

“Begin.” And drops it.

Spells are flying before it hits the ground.

Alex gets one out first, sending him an electric blue spell that he has to dive out of the way off. It hits the ground with a small explosion. Harry doesn’t even have time to send Alex a glare before he’s moving out of the way again. This time the spell was red and he knew it would have been game over if it had struck him.

He sent a stunner back and Alex ducked and rolled, whispering a knockback jinx before he was even fully back on his feet. It sizzled out on Harry’s hastily raised shield and then the dance was back on. They were both taking hits, him more than Alex, of course.

Alex was casting silently and, while Harry could manage to follow that for a few minutes, he was yelling out his spells while jumping out of Alex’s range.

It cost him precious energy.

They had been going at it for less then ten minutes when Alex managed to corner him. It was difficult, on a circular boulder, but he’d herded Harry – who was too exhausted by all the running and his injuries to cast any defensive magic and had instead started just relying on his dodging skills. Harry could move faster than Alex could cast, but  Alex was more experienced, and it _showed_ , he had picked up on Harry’s weak points early on and exploited them accordingly.

Alex kept up a barrage of spells until Harry just didn’t have the energy to defend himself.

And then he was flying through the air and into the salty water.

He spluttered as he came up, silently cursing both Alex and Merina, he was now exhausted, injured, and soaking fucking wet. He was so tiered he didn’t even flinch when he felt Merina’s magic grab his waist and yank him back onto the boulder.

Alex burst out in laughter when Harry gave him his best glare, only stopping when Harry grabbed him in a hug, transferring as much sea water as possible onto his friend.

“Enough, children.” Merina’s tone was sharp but her lips were curved in a smile, so Harry knew she didn’t mind them messing around too much, “It’s time to review. Alex, good usage of spells but your movement was sloppy, your shield charm is more reliable then Harry’s but he still managed to land some blows due to your lack of speed. We will be working on this in training on Monday.”

“Yes, abuela.”

“Harry, you are much faster then I expected, very good evasion but it is clear you don’t have enough stamina yet to keep it up. Alex was able to pick up on the less then a minute into the match. You over powered your spells in the beginning, I know your magic was just unblocked but if you keep doing that you’ll never be able to last in a duel. We will be doing duels such as this at least once a week. When I deem you ready you can begin training to fight against more then one opponent.”

“I understand, Merina.”

“Good, now… again!”

Harry was in the water before he knew what hit him.

“Pay attention, Harry. Someone can attack at any time.”

“Constant vigilance.” He muttered under his breath.

This time, Harry was prepared when she shouted, “Go!”

He tried to pace himself this time, only letting enough magic to make the spell work rather then throwing everything he had into every spell. It was highly dodgy at first, his spells kept fizzling out seconds after they were cast or just never forming at all.

Alex didn’t give him any room to buffer, so he had to work on his spells while rolling and running around. He was fast, yes, but he’d also just lost two fights, and was working with untreated injuries in heavy, wet clothes.

He wasn’t fast enough.

Alex hit him with a Merlin damned knock back jinx and he was flying off his feet yet again. This time, however, he was feeling petty.

He aimed at Alex, who had let down his guard, and sent the most overpowered accio he could. Sending it at Alex’s shirt instead of the boy himself because Merina had drilled it into him that _accio would not work on a person_.

Harry smiled at Alex’s surprised yelp, managing to catch him in his arms as he came sailing through the air. He only laughed when they resurfaced.

“What the fuck, dude?”

“Constant vigilance, mate.”

“Fuck you.”

“Later.”

Their conversation was cut short when Merina pulled them out of the water.

“Spectacular effort, Harry. You’ll obviously need to practice your casting but you lasted much longer this time. And congratulations, I haven’t seen Alex that surprised since he was five.”

“Thanks, Merina.”

“And Alex –“

He groaned, “I know abuela.”

“You better. But I commend you, you’re much more fluid with your motions now. You boys can get back now. But don’t be late for dinner, we’re having it at the restaurant. Oh, and get Remus or Vanessa to heal those injuries.”

“Yes, Merina.”

“Kay, abuela.”

Merina nodded once before apparating away. Harry and Alex both scowled at the spot she was standing in before turning in unison and helping each other down the staircase of smaller boulders.

“You realise she could have just side alonged with her.” Harry pointed out when they were nearly halfway back to the hotel.

“Nah, she never would have let us, it’s too easy.”

“She-demon.”

“Hey! That she-demon is my grandmother.”

“ _That_ explains why you're such an _arse_.”

Harry laughed when Alex tackled him to the sand.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw the chemistry stuff was mostly added because I learnt it two days ago and it blew my fcking mind (Shout out to my chem teacher who is a blessing upon this earth). And if you can't tell, I really hate Physics right now, so Harry does too, deal with it.  
> Also Also, have some descriptions of the oc's cuz im a lazy bitch who couldn't figure out how to put it in the actual story. sorry.  
> Elanor - red head, pale as all hells with the freckles, honestly looks like a weasley. She's a bio nerd also likes literature. Tall, 5'8.  
> Anya - indian, skin darker then Harry's and she's legit 5'2, competitive hurdle runner, likes math alot  
> Lyla - african american, very dark skin with curly hair, 5'3. Obvi a chem nerd. likes drawing alot  
> Maddie - Literal amazonian warrior, just imagine wonder women as a 16 year old. Does any sport she can and is a physics nerd.  
> Lana - blonde, 5'4, always looks like she needs a nap. litreature and physics nerd.
> 
> Okay that's all of the ones I didn't get to describe, toodles until next time.
> 
> p.s if any of ya'll are doing or have done GCSE or IGCSE how many subjects are you all taking? Because i'm taking nine and currently drowning in work. send help
> 
> P.p.s before anyone comes at me for unrealistic sex liveiness, let it be know that i know four separate people Harrys current age who have done all the shit i put in here and more. Just a btw


	6. Time flies and then we're flying home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! i changed my username. Mostly because one of my friends was trying to find my account and Nadzi was way too close to my actual name. She already found the account so i guess i could change it back but i like this name now so too bad.   
> This chapter is set in both Costa Rica and Grimmuald place so we're finally back to the other characters, yay!   
> anyway, have fun reading it (at least i hope you're having fun),  
> Ta,  
> Ideasofmarch.

Harry never quite understood the phrase, “Time flies”. Mostly because, in his case, it couldn’t be anything farther from the truth. Cleaning the garden took forever, chores never seemed to end, and school could go on for eons within the span of six hours. Perhaps it was just that he’d never really connected with the second part of the phrase – “when you’re having fun”. Nothing about his life had ever really been fun up until now.

Sure at Hogwarts he’d have a few moments of it, the jokes and love and proud glances from teachers. But it never lasted, there was always something, some creature, or mystery, or evil dark lord, or stupid school yard rivalry – just, something.

And then it would all slow down, long enough for Harry to think of a plan, or fight, or jump head first into the situation.

Time in Costa Rica flew by, each happy moment blurring into the next so quickly Harry barely realised how quickly they burnt through their days. It seemed that every time he’d blink a week passed, and before he knew it the girls were leaving, their holiday finishing just two weeks before he was due back home as well.

They’d known each other for just over a month but, Merlin damned, he felt like he’d known them his entire life. This new thing the muggles had going on – oversharing – sure did make for quickly built friendships.

Of course, everything they knew about him was edited. Harry was sure that Lyla would murder him if she ever found out that he’d taken on a giant snake at the age of twelve. But having so many close friends, especially after living your life with a grand total of two – maybe three – really brought out a side in Harry he never even knew existed.

All of the people who’d recently made their ways onto his list of ‘close friends’ personalities were different, complimentary, yes, but distinctly different, allowing Harry to thrive as he figured out what he found funny, or interesting, or just really fucking stupid. Some, like Anya, had a dark sense of humour that Harry could really appreciate, others treaded on lighter water with a humour consisting of not much more than zooming in really close into pictures of people’s faces. Mia was an adrenalin junkie, which equated to a major headache for the rest of their friends as they attempted to stop Mia and Harry from jumping off a cliff in wingsuits, while Elani preferred the ground solid under her feet thank you very much.

They’d also all met Hermione and Ron, mostly through an Instagram DM chat but it’s the thought that counts, and loved them. Hermione had practically fallen in love with Lyla and her group, adding them all into a WhatsApp group before leading entire debates on different fields of scientific study. His more magical friends found her highly entertaining, able to keep up with her discussions on the more controversial topics in Wizarding Britain.

Mia, Harry had found out, was half faerie and was especially gifted with fire magic – which made an enormous amount of sense considering her passion involved fire breathing reptiles – and was absolutely delighted to point out everything wrong with Hermione’s view of the fae.

For a minute Harry was actually worried they’d turn out enemies, as people who tried to argue with Hermione often did, but lo’ and behold the two girls had come out of the altercation as close friends – he had half a mind to get Mia to talk to Hermione about SPEW.

Hermione and Ron had stopped sending letters, instead she just texted him whatever she wanted to tell him, Ron borrowing her phone whenever he wanted to do the same. Though Ron did still send the odd owl or two when he wanted to ask some advice on wooing their Curly haired book worm. Harry supposed that at least one good thing came out of Ms. Weasleys strict no magic rule in the house. Hermione’s phone worked just fine, even if the connection was more than a little iffy.

Honestly, sometimes Harry had to sit down when he tried to wrap his mind around how much everything had changed in just under two months.

And here, now, looking at the group of girls who’d somehow become a fundamental part of his life, only one thought was running through his mind: _I’m gonna miss them so fucking much_.

“We’re going to miss you so fucking much.” Lyla threw her hands around his significantly higher up shoulders, meaning she had to do a bit of a jump and hang on for a moment until he laughed and leaned downwards.

“I’m going to miss you all too,” He hugged her back just as tightly, ”I can’t believe summer is almost over!”

“I still can’t believe you finished the entire syllabus.” Anya looked just a little bit like she’d been knocked on the head with a sledge hammer.

“Oh my god, Anya. How long are you gonna go on –“

“Maddie! He learned all three sciences, _and_ goddamn math. In a month.” She looked at him, something like awe and annoyance in her eyes, “I will _never_ be over this.”

“We already know he’s some kind of miracle, how are you still surprised by him?” Lana said.

“Guys –“ Harry said, embarrassed as all hell.

“A _month_.” Anya cut him off.

“Anya –“

“I just don’t under –“

“Can we not talk about my –“

“It should be imposi –“

“Shut up, you two!” Lyla stomped her foot as if to punctuate her point.

“sorry Lyla.” They both coursed sullenly like guilty children.

“Right, now we have about five minutes to say goodbye before its time to get going.”

“Bring it in ya’ll.” Lana said, voice all sappy like maple syrup, opening up her arms for a group hug.

Harry, who’s arms were much longer and far more capable of wrapping most, if not all, of them in a hug, took over for the shorter girl. Grabbing as many of them as he could and pulling them in close.

“You lot better keep in touch.” He said, muffled in their shoulders.

“We will.” One or two, or maybe all of them said back.

He let them go, discreetly (who was he kidding?) wiping his wet eyes. “You better, Hermione’ll kill you if you don’t.”

Lyla snorted, “oh, we know.”

“Okay.” He sniffled a bit, “I’ll let you get on you’re stupid plane now.”

“Bye, Harry.” Anya said.

“Bye, guys.” He pushed her a little, “Now go on, get! Or I might not let you leave.”

They all laughed, hugging Harry one on one another time before making their way further into the airport. He watched them go, shouting out goodbyes until he couldn’t tell their backs apart from strangers. That earned him more than a few funny looks – some amused, some annoyed, some looking like they wanted to murder Harry for talking above a whisper.

He sighed when they were gone. Two weeks, that’s all he had left before it was back to England. No more sun, or parties (well, maybe this one was a lie, Fred and George threw killer after-quidditch parties), or battles on a hill with Alex. He almost groaned at the thought of having to deal with – just, _everyone_ back home.

The floo station, thank Merlin, wasn’t full at all, so Harry managed to slip through to Elladora’s with only the tiniest of stumbles. Which, of course, meant he fell flat on his face.

“Graceful as ever, Haz.”

“Shut the fuck up, Alex.” He replied with a smile.

“Are the girls gone?”

“Yeah, just dropped ‘em of at the airport now.”

“Cool, I texted them ‘safe flights’ this morning.” Alex kicked his feet off the table and came to stand in front of Harry.

Harry snorted when Alex hooked his fingers in Harry’s jeans and looked at him like _that_ , “You are insatiable.”

“Ooh we’re brining out the big words now, are we?”

Harry laughed, “Shut up.”

Alex leaned in and smirked, “make me.”

 

-0-

 

“Go!”

Merina moved back swiftly as the handkerchief fell. The boys were improving, and fast too. Alex was by far the more experienced dueller, he knew more tricks and spells, but Harry was just _stronger_. And with his ever growing control, the teen could cast spells for hours that would tire your average wizard out within five minutes.

He was also quick, moving like lightning and dodging spells half formed on Alex’s lips. Just last week she’d been caught on the shoulder with one of his spells when she hadn’t stepped out of the way quite fast enough. Harry’d been thrown right into the sea, of course, when he got distracted apologising so she’d simply put a bandage on the wound and drilled it in to him to finish the duel no matter what.

She could see it in his eyes now. The boy was a fighter, with a competitive streak a mile wide. He was focused, determined, perhaps lacking the effortless finesse of her grandson yet effective none the less. Harry was a dancer, Merina noted, the way he spun out of the way of a blazing red curse like it was second nature, instinctual.

Perhaps she should look into teaching him ballet, it would certainly benefit him on the battlefield, probably only mortifying him a little in the process.

Alex was benefiting from this too. Before she’d started training Harry, Alex had been good. Now? The boy could probably take out most of her colleagues. Harry’s constant improvement forced Alex to up his game, making him faster, stronger, and far more Intune with his surroundings – he had to be, what with the way he was having to dodge nearly every spell sprung his way.

Harry had yet to beat Alex yet, but the fights were getting closer and closer every day. Maybe today would be the day, it sure looked like it. Merina nodded approvingly, her exercise regime was definitely paying off, Harry was, despite all odds, getting _faster_. So quick _her_ eyes could barely keep up.

Alex was mostly relying on his shield now, surrounding himself with the translucent light to protect himself from the blurry onslaught that was Harry’s attack, managing to get in a spell or two whenever Harry took a break.

Merina would have whistled if she wasn’t sure it would break their concentration.

And then _there_ , Merina saw the moment Harry gained the upper hand. Harry was clearly racking his brain for spells that a protego wouldn’t keep out, and finally, after five minutes of silent casting and twenty minutes of whispered latin, he’d found one.

Well, to be fair, he hadn’t found anything to blast through the protego, at least not anything that could be healed. He’d cast an aguamenti at Alex’s feet then froze it, causing him to loose concentration for a split second. Long enough to send Alex flying into the choppy waves with a blast of red light and a shocked grin.

Alex spat up water when Merina fished him out, “You beat me!”

“I did!” Harry laughed.

“I’m so _proud_ of you!” Alex practically tackled Harry in a hug, soaking him in salt water.

“Aw come on, man! The one time is stay dry and you do _this_.”

“You were like a whirlwind, dude. I could barely even _see_ you!”

Harry rubbed the junction between his shoulder and his neck, “Ah well –“

“Oh fuck off with your modesty, that was amazing. You should be proud.”

“Thanks.” Harry smiled softly at his vehement tone.

“My grandson is correct, Harry. You’re control has improved immensely. Frankly, it’s astonishing. The power you maintained for half an hour would be enough to cause most magicals to collapse. And I can see the exercise is paying off, hmm?”

“I guess so.” Harry smiled sheepishly.

Alex ducked his head to hide his smirk, “I _know_ so.” He muttered.

Harry elbowed him.

Merina smirked, waggling her finger between the two boys, “Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on between you two.”

Alex and Harry looked at each other with panicked eyes.

“Ah –“

“Gandma –“

“We –“

“The thing is –“

“For Circe’s sake.” Merina sighed, “I had my flings back in the day, or what’s the term? Friends with benefits. There’s nothing to be _ashamed_ about.” She flipped her hand at them and scoffed.

“ _Abuela_.” Alex said, absolutely mortified. Harry had his face buried in Alex’s shoulder to hide his embarrassment.

“What, Alex? Are you denying it.”

“No, but –“

“Then shut up. I know you and Harry aren’t in a serious relationship, so it’s not like I have to give him the shovel talk or anything.”

“Yes, no need for that at all.” Harry’s voice was only just a little bit higher than usual.

“I liked it better when we were firing semi-legal hexes at each other.” Alex’s face was a burning red.

“Boys, please. I am an auror, everything I teach you is completely legal.”

“For aurors maybe, definitely not for the general public.” He pointed out.

Merina raised one brow, “ Well, you’re not the general public, are you?”

Harry and Alex responded with unintelligible grumbling that somehow managed to sound sarcastic.

“Come now, Alex, you are my grandson, aurors are _allowed_ to share secrets with their families.”

Alex pursed his lips at that. “Are you su –“

“Shh,” She shot him a look, “And Harry, you are the boy who lived. Surely no one would begrudge you the skills you need to protect yourself.”

“Please stop.” Harry begged.

“Fine, fine.” She sighed, “Boys these days are so sensitive. Let’s get back to curses.”

“Thank _Merlin_.”

 

-0-

 

 

“Harry, you can’t spend an entire day in the bath.” Remus said from outside his bathroom door.

“I have bubbles, heating charms, and a waterproof phone. I think I can.”

“Do I even want to know why?”

“There are no bathtubs in Hogwarts.” Harry pouted into his bubbles.

“Well, as I distinctly remember –“

“Bathtubs for normal students.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Remus sighed.

“Bye Remus.”

“Bye Harry.”

 

 

-0-

 

 

“I still don’t see what the big deal is.” Harry sighed, back in his ripped jeans and freezing his arse off – _again_.

“You leave for England in two days, this is you’re last party here. You look amazing, there’s going to be copious amounts of alcohol, and loud, loud music.”

“ _And_?”

“ _And_ we are going to get drunk as fuck, probably have sex, and celebrate how great you’re time in Costa Rica has been.”

“I still don’t see why you forced me back into these pants.”

“Because I like your ass in them.”

“You like my arse in all my pants.” Harry smirked.

“True”

Harry snorted at his answer.

They walked in comfortable silence the rest of the way to the village, Harry took the chance to take in the Costa Rican night sky, so similar to Hogwarts yet as different as black and white. The constellations and even the exact colour of the inky sky was different, but the feeling was the same; calmness, a sense of placement in the world. All too soon they came up to the border of the town, the warmth of the weather controlling charms enveloped them.

“Harry, Alex!” Elani called out from where she was standing by Mia and Andres.

“Hey, guys.” Harry smiled as they came to stand together in a circle, “You ready to go?”

“Yep.” Mia walked up to Harry and linked arms with him in the way she seemed to automatically do with anybody walking next to her, and started dragging him in the direction of the party. He shook his head a little but let her take the lead and smiled as she rambled on about a new species of dragon that had just been discovered.

“Is this…?” Harry said when they finally reached the house hosting the party.

“Yep.” Alex chirped, coming up behind Harry to throw an arm around his shoulders, “Ali’s parents are out of town again, so we thought we’d have your last party at the same place as your first.”

“It’s symbolic.” Andres added.

“And you literature nerds just _love_ your symbolism.” Elani smirked when Andres scowled at her.

“As a matter of fact we do, so kindly fuck off.”

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“Oh gods, why?” He deadpanned.

“Hey!” Elani pouted, “I am a blessing unto this earth. Appreciate me.”

“No.”

Harry laughed as the two continued bickering even as they walked past the sound wards and the music became so loud they had to practically scream into each other’s ears to get their points across. Mia, Alex, and he walked in after them, calling – or more accurately, mouthing – out greetings every time they saw a familiar face, which, evidently, was every three seconds.

“Where are the drinks?” Alex shouted at some girl balancing a huge tray of shots. She pointed at the back door and Alex smiled in thanks.

Harry and Mia followed him out the door, both of them sighing in relief as the music became more muffled; they weren’t nearly drunk enough to deal with that level of bass.

“Oh thank Merlin, I can actually hear myself think.” Harry rubbed his temples slightly.

Mia laughed, “I know what you mean.”

“This should help,” Alex said, coming up to Mia and Harry with three plastic cups filled with some mixture of alcoholic substance, “Couple’a glasses of this stuff and you’ll be able to handle the music no problem.”

“Yes please.” Harry said, reaching for a cup.

“Ohh, gimmie, gimmie, gimmie.” Mia made grabby gestures until Alex passed a cup into her waiting hands.

Alex raised his cup, “To Harry’s last night of debauchery.”

“A night he definitely won’t remember.” Mia raised hers as well.

Harry huffed a laugh, clunking their cups with his, “I’ll remember the headache I’ll have tomorrow.”

“Let’s make it worth it, then.” Mia tossed back her drink, prompting both the boys to do the same.

All three of them immediately started coughing.

“Oh merlin, Alex. What was _in_ that?” Harry said between wheezes.

“I don’t fucking know. Ali just told me it was strong, he didn’t say it was _that_ strong.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Mia coughed again, “my throat feels like someone cast an incendio down it.”

“Well, you know there’s only one way to make _that_ stop…”

“Drink more!” Harry and Mia shouted together.

They ended up drinking a lot more, only moving back into the house after three more cups each. The alcohol, which they eventually found out was a mixture of Firewhiskey, vodka, and some special Costa Rican drink, got them drunk quickly. The walk back to the living room was honestly more of a stumble from wall to wall than anything else, but this time, with the music dulled by the liquid fire, it seemed the perfect time to dance.

Someone, probably Elani, had let it slip that Harry was leaving soon. Meaning that people kept coming up to him, most who he didn’t even know, and hugging him goodbye. More often than not handing him a drink as a farewell present. Mia was right then, in that aspect; there was no way in hell he’d remember any of this in the morning.

Eventually the five of them found themselves jumping in a circle together in the middle of the dance floor. Spinning, and laughing, and jumping together with an energy only possessed by the extremely drunk.

Harry didn’t know how long they’d danced for, and he wouldn’t ever figure it out the next day, but they had fun, none of them ever seeming to tire out as one song faded into the next, and the next, and the next.

Alex and Harry stumbled back to the hotel in the early hours of the morning, Alex being way too drunk to floo home and deciding that walking to the hotel was far safer than attempting to jump through green fire while he couldn’t tell tit from tat.

They didn’t end up doing anything explicit, both boys too out of it to do much more then sloppily kiss goodnight – or good morning depending on how you look at it – and collapse on the bed.

 

-0-

 

“Harry!”

He groaned as Sirius’s voice blasted into the room. Evidently, his godfather had somehow gotten a hold of his room key as he was now standing next to Harry’s bed, smiling like a loon, and talking loud enough to wake the dead.

“Shut _up_ , Siri. My brain is _literally_ going to implode.”

“Ah my sweet, sweet, godchild. What a fool you must feel like to not have purchased a hangover potion.”

Harry scowled but conceded the point, he probably should have anticipated the headache. Beside him, Alex mumbled something in his sleep, frowning minutely before pulling the covers up over his head.

“What a good thing then, that I,” Sirius pointed to himself like the ringleader of a circus act, “Your glorious dogfather. Got you _these_.”

Harry almost toppled out of the bed with how he lunged for the vials of potion. Throwing one straight back to avoid the awful taste and sighing in relief as his headache immediately started to subside. It didn’t bring back any memories from last night though, at least, not any clear ones. He had the vague impression of a pink tinted dance floor and hundreds of hugs from strangers, but nothing concrete.

He shoved Alex a little, chuckling when the other boy opened his eyes to glare at him before catching sight of the offered hangover potion and lighting up with relief. Alex, like Harry, had learned to drink the potion as fast as possible and pulled a face when some of the liquid settled on his tongue.

“Thanks, Siri.” Harry said, able to smile now that his head didn’t feel like burning cotton wool.

“No problem, kiddies. Though you should really be thanking our favourite werewolf, he had a sneaking suspicion you’d turn up hungover as hell today.”

“It wasn’t really that hard to guess,” Alex pushed himself up from under the blankets.

“Whatever,” Sirius smirked, “Now hurry up, it’s time for lunch.”

“Lunch?” Harry asked.

“It’s like two o’clock, you two slept right through breakfast.”

“Ugh, fuck. I missed the pancakes.” Harry pouted.

“Don’t worry, there’s always tomorrow.”

“I guess.”

“Oh don’t pout, I’ll make you some later if you want.” Alex offered.

Harry immediately lit up, Alex made the best pancakes he’d ever tasted. Clearly he’d picked up a thing or two from his grandmother.

 

-0-

 

“Can’t you just stay one more week?” Alex mumbled into Harry’s shoulder.

“I wish I could, man, but I need to go get school supplies and shit.”

“Just transfer to my school.”

“You have no idea how many time I’ve considered it but…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Alex smiled sadly, “You gotta go save the world or whatever.”

Harry pulled him into another hug before moving on to hug the rest of the Araya’s goodbye. The portkey was set to leave in about five minutes, so they had to be quick. Sirius promised to keep everyone up to date on what was happening in Europe as well as actually take his potions and see his mind healer this time. Remus promised to keep him too it, and Harry swore to not go looking for any  more trouble.

“Not that he has to look for it,” Sirius had said, “Trouble has a way of sniffing him out.”

Then they gotten into their portkey, a kiddie pool this time, all sitting inside it as they’d learned their lessons from last time.

“Sorry about the portkey’s.” Merina laughed, “My son has a slight obsession with inflatable pool toys.”

“No kidding” Snorted Harry, right as the portkey activated.

And then, after another round of stomach turning, sand papery portkeying, they were back in that little hand built cottage in the woods.

 

-0-

 

“Holy fuck, Ron.” Hermione said, shooting up from her lounged position and dropping the ancient tomb in her hands.

The red head blinked awake, “Huh, wha-?”

“Ron, look.”

Ron turned his head to the fireplace where Hermione was pointing, “Sweet Merlin… _Harry_?”

They’d just been relaxing in the office of the house, a place that was usually of limits to anyone but Sirius until he’d adjusted the wards to let them in so they could escape Molly’s reign for a little while. Hermione had been studying, obviously, and he’d been taking a much needed nap and now suddenly his best friend, who he hadn’t seen since Hogwarts closed, was standing sheepishly by the fireplace, covered in soot.

“Sup guys.” He smiled with a little wave.

“Harry!” They shouted together, tackling him in a massive group hug.

Hermione pulled back first, “Jeez, Harry. You said you grew but…” She waved one hand vaguely at his new body.

Harry chuckled in agreement, “You have no idea how many times I’ve tripped over these limbs.”

Ron snorted, “If we’re increasing the number that you already used to fall before the limb extensions, then it’s safe to say the answer to _that_ is a lot.”

Harry looked at them both for a moment, “I’ve missed you guys so much.”

“Mate, you spoke to us almost every day.”

“Not the same as being able to see you guys in the flesh.”

“Aww.” Hermione said, pulling them both in for another group hug, causing Ron to blush furiously and Harry to smirk deviously at his panicked best friend.

Harry opened his mouth to say something when they heard an uproar of commotion from the kitchen where the order members usually congregated. The three of them shared a look before simultaneously making a break for the door.

They jogged quietly to the stair case, where they could see Fred, George, and Ginny leaning over and trying to hear what was going on. Their eyes all widened in surprise as they realised Harry was here, but he mouthed “later” and pointed downstairs. They nodded in understanding and all six of them went back to listening.

“ – thought you were locked up in the room with Buckbeak?!” Molly’s voice drifted through the creaking walls.

“Yes, Sirius. You’ve been locked in there all summer. Why come out now?” Arthur backed his wife up.

“Well,” Harry fought a grin at Sirius’s highly patronizing tone, “you see, Arthur, Molly, the truth is: _I_ was never _in_ the room.” He rolled his eyes at his godfathers theatrics.

“What! But we heard your voice.”

“Eh, I ordered Kreacher to make everyone believe I was still there.”

“Sirius!” Molly scolded, “Why would you do that?”

But Arthur cut her off with a sigh, “You’re the one who took Harry, you and Remus.”

Harry could practically hear sirius’s smirk when he said, “Yup.”

“You what?!” All four Weasleys winced at her tone, having been on the receiving end of their mothers fury at one time or another, “Do you know how irresponsible that was?! He could  have been _killed_ when you took him out of the blood wards. Oh Merlin, you are an escaped _convict_. You took the boy _with you_ while running from the aurors!”

“Molly –“ Sirius tried.

“I _knew_ I shouldn’t have trusted you. What did you do? _Kidnap_ him?”

“What?! I would nev –“

“Oh his poor relatives. They must be worried _sick_ , Dumbledore told us they woke to find his room _empty_. I can’t believe you. And with a werewolf no less! How stupid could you be?”

“Now see here, Molly –“ It was Harry’s turn to wince now. Sirius, all things considered, was not quick to anger. With the way he was raised insults slid of his back like water on oil, but the one thing that could really, _really_ spark a wave of fury; insulting his mate.

Molly, on her part, didn’t seem to notice the shift in Sirius’s tone, “He could have mauled Harry to death! Remus is a nice enough fellow but that doesn’t change what he _is_.”

“And what’s that, Molly?” Sirius growled out, and Harry was sure that if he could see his godfathers face his eyes would be more dog than human.

“A dangerous, _creature_.”

Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny were standing with their mouths dropped open in surprise. They had known their mother was not the most accepting of women, in fact it seemed that muggleborns were the only way she was accepting, they’d seen and heard enough throughout the years to know. Oh, Molly had never been blunt about it, but a comment or two in passing, a snide look, or a subtle influence on who they should and shouldn’t be talking to. But they’d never thought she’d be this _stupid_.

To insult a Lords mate was to insult the Lord himself. And while they were seeking refuge in the Black residence no less. It was like she was _trying_ to get them thrown out.

Downstairs other voices rang out, some defending Remus, others siding with Molly.

“ _Enough_.” Sirius said, a silent fury in his voice so at odds with his usual jovial demeanour that it shocked even the most angry of the lot into silence. ‘Get out.”

“What? Sirius you can’t –“

“Remus is my _mate_. You will _not_ insult him in my house. So, get. _Out_. Before I throw you _out._ ”

“Oh please. You are _Lord_ Black. It’s time to stop fooling around and settle down with a nice girl and –“

“I, Lord Sirius Orion Black, of the ancient and Nobel house of Black, do so bar Molly Weasley nee Prewett access to any Black property, effective immediately and for as long as I will it. So mote it be.”

They could all feel the magic permeating the air, building with every word Sirius said. It drowned out the gasps of shocks and Molly’s protest, making the air feel like it was filled with static electricity. And then, with the last words of the incantation, it was suddenly all gone – like someone had dumped a bucket of the tension straight out the window. The kids knew, without ever having been in the room, that Molly had been ejected from the wards.

“This is my first and final warning.” Sirius sounded dangerous, “This is the meeting place of the order of the phoenix. But it is first and foremost the property of the house of Black. I am Lord Black, and I will not hesitate to remove _anyone_ who disrespects my property or my family. Are we _clear_?” And Harry just knew Sirius was glaring at anyone who had dared speak up against Remus after Molly’s little speech.

When no one answered Sirius said, “I’m glad we understand each other.”

For five long, tense seconds no one said a thing. Then:

“Is Harry home then?” A voice, Tonks, asked hesitantly.

“He’s here if that’s what you mean.”

“And, uh, can we see him?”

“If he want to see you ,sure.”

For the first time, Remus spoke up, his voice filled with a wiry sort of amusement, “Harry! Would you like to come out now.”

Harry smirked and shouted, “I’m Bisexual!”

It was so worth Hermione’s slap on the shoulder.

“Not what I meant but we support you!” Remus chuckled, “Now get down here, and bring all the other kids as well.”

They all slowly made their way down the rickety old stair case and entered the room with nervous expressions. Well, all of them except Harry, he strode into the room with a confident smirk and a level of bravado only achieved through various practice sessions with Merina and Alex.

“What?” he asked upon seeing their shocked expressions, “No welcome backs?”

Tonks was the first to get over the shock, “We were – ah – going to, but, um, you kind of…” she waved a hand helplessly in his direction, “look a little different.”

“No kidding.” Ginny said appreciatively, making Harry blush for the first time.

“Well,” Started one of the twins.

“We totally agree,”

“Look at that amazing tan,”

“Did you change your hair, Harry?”

“Oh no, it’s definitely the lack of specs obscuring your beautiful eyes.”

“Yes that must be it, Forge.”

“I quite think you’re right Gred”

“Because other than that,”

“We can’t really,”

“See much of a,”

“Difference.” They finished together.

Ron poked his stomach, “Do you have abs now mate?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Nice.”

“Thanks! You wanna come jogging with me in the morning?”

Ron snorted, “Merlin no. Abs are _not_ worth waking up to _run_.”

“If we could please stay on topic.” Arthur interrupted, Sirius growled to remind him that, thanks to his wife, he was on thin fucking ice. “Harry, how did this happen?”

“Goblins and training, that’s all I’m willing to say about it.” The _to you_ at the end wasn’t said, but everyone could feel it.

“And where did Sirius take you?” He tried again.

“Somewhere safe,” was what Harry said – what his _tone_ said was: none of _your_ fucking business.

‘Ah, good then.” The red headed man then turned slightly awkward, “Um, Sirius, about Molly…”

“What?” Sirius snapped, “I’m not letting her back in if that’s what your trying to get at.”

“Oh no, no I just wanted to apologise for her actually. And I wanted to ask what you wanted to do with me and the kids.”

Sirius softened slightly, “Arthur, her actions are not your own. You and the kids are welcome here so long as you respect it and those it belongs to, and that _includes_ Remus.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

“There is nothing to thank me for.”

Arthur shook his head, “Still, thank you.”

Sirius sighed but took the thanks, before turning to the kids, “Harry why don’t you go hang out with your friends, you only have two days before school starts to have fun.”

“Kay, see you guys later.”

Harry beckoned them all to follow him as he lead them back into the study that he, Ron, and Hermione had come out of earlier.

They all moved to spread out, sitting in the various armchairs and sofas or just dropping onto the floor. Harry pulled a shrunken bag out of his pocket and reversed the charm with a flick of his wand.

“Mate!” Ron said, alarmed, “The trace!”

“There are other magical adults in the house, Ron. They can’t track it.”

“What?!” Hermione practically shrieked, “I could have been practicing this whole time. Why didn’t you fucking tell me?’

“Yeah what she said, mate.” Ron frowned.

“He probably,”

“Thought you knew,”

“Everyone knows,”

“That the trace,”

“Well, the things practically useless.”

“So longs as you’ve got a magical adult within a mile,”

“Of your exact location.”

Ginny cut into the twin talk, “Even I knew.”

Hermione threw her head into her hands in despair, letting out a frustrated little wail. Then she shot back into a sitting position. “You cast the counter charm wordlessly.”

“I did.”

“Harry, that’s a sixth year skill! Oh my _god_ , you have to teach me – no! you should teach all of us! Oh, oh we could start a study group! You’d lead DADA, I could do arithmancy, maybe Neville would do herbology –“

 

“’Mione.” Harry cut her off with a fond smile, “We can sort that out tomorrow. But for now can we get back to the fact that I brought you all _presents_ from my little vacation.”

“Presents?” Ron said, perking up.

“Yep.” He made sure to pop the ‘p’. “First of all, Hermione. You get a magic proofed phone and a locket.”

He handed her a white box and a silver necklace with a little triangle at the bottom. The locket had hit him right on the head during one of his training sessions with Merina and Alex, right after he’d been thrown in the ocean it had been swept into his path by a wave. Upon further inspection, and a lot of input from Merina, the locket opened to reveal hundreds of intricately carved runes – all meant for protection.

“Oh it’s _beautiful_ , Harry. What do the runes mean?” Hermione held the locket close to her right eye, inspecting the runes closely, “I don’t recognise the combinations.”

“It’s supposed to be some sort of ancient protection, think of it like an omnipresent protego.”

“But doesn’t it have to siphon off your own magic, can’t it cause, like, a magical strain?”

“Well, from what we can tell the runes aren’t always active. They only activate when a spell gets within an inch of your person, then it siphons the magic of the spell to power the shield.”

“That’s amazing.” She said, her voice full of awe as she continued studying the locket.

“Right, next up we have Ron.” Harry reached into he’s bag and pulled up another white box and a wooden fork, “You also get a phone, as well as this really cool fork. Guess what?”

“Uh, what?” Ron said, dubiously looking at the fork.

“It’s made of willow and has unicorn hair inside it.”

Ron just looked confused now. Hermione’s eyes widened, “you didn’t”

Harry grinned, “I sure did.”

“What?’ Ron said in confusion, “What’d he do?”

“Ron, That forks got the same composition as your wand.” Hermione pointed out, “If Harry did what I think he did, then you should be able to cast magic with the fork.”

“It’s not as good as your actual wand, obviously. But I figured, with this baby, you could use magic right in front of your mum.”

“ _And_ when I’m eating!” Ron added happily.

Harry smirked, “That’s exactly why I had them make it into a fork.”

“ _This_ ,” Ron said seriously, “This is why you’re my best friend.”

“You’re welcome, mate.”

“Our turn!” The twins interrupted, Harry rolled his eyes before turning to them and handing them both white boxes.

“If you guys hadn’t figured it out by now, I’ve gotten you all phones.” He handed Ginny hers as well, “But for Fred and George, you guys get these auror grade invisibility rings.”

“How did,”

“You even,”

“ _Get_ these?”

“I have a contact.” Harry though of Merina and her pile of excess auror equipment that she’d collected over the years. She’d shoved nearly ten rings at Harry when he asked if he could grab a pair – apparently she’d developed a habit of grabbing a few every few weeks, and they were starting to overflow.

“And last but not least,” He pulled out a thin leather bracelet and handed it to Ginny, “it’s charmed to prevent compulsions and intrusions to your mind. Won’t stop an _imperio_ , but it will make it slightly less effective. I just – I thought after…”

“Thank you.” She said quietly. She looked at it for a moment, then wrapped it securely around her wrist and took a breath to steady herself, “it’s perfect.”

“No problem, Gin.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about making Molly kind of an asshole, but i needed someone to fill that role and she was right there. Also ngl cannon molly kinda pissed me off at times with how she treated the twins and percy so i guess i feel slightly vindicated. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. The oppressor, the oppressed, and the Merlin damned press

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo,  
> I'm back bitches. Due to a two week break in my exam schedule i have decided to write this baby. I think its the first time we got some multiple points of views - featuring: the acclaimed Rita Skeeter, the frustrated Albus name-name-name Dumbledore, and of course Harry because he's our home boy. Next time we get the train to Hogwarts Hogwarts Hoggy-hoggy Hogwarts. Maybe we'll see some Theo, idek because i am a mess and making this up as i go.
> 
> ALSO- i made up an entirely new like thing you can do with magic, its a bit confusing even to me so explanations are in the end notes if you need em. <3
> 
> anyway hope you all enjoy this.  
> Much love   
> \- Ideasofmarch

Alright, so maybe Rita wasn’t here on a totally professional level.

She was sitting in the Leakey, nursing a tall glass of pumpkin juice and near vibrating in equal parts annoyance and excitement.

The Potter boy had called in a favour, and with him that meant she had to come calling or he’d out her to the Wizengamot. Joy. If she really wanted to Rita knew she could find a loophole, find some way to hide her animagus status. She knew she cold figure it out if she tried.

But she knew something else too.

Rita skeeter was many things; a liar, a cheat, a warmongering hellcat (according to some of the more pompous magazines) – but she was _not_ an idiot.

And she wasn’t fucking blind either.

Every year like bloody clockwork something would go down at Hogwarts. It always involved Harry Potter, it always involved death eaters or Voldemort in some way shape or form and it always, _always_ seemed _highly_ preventable. And whether it be during or after the whole crisis was over, at some point Harry Potter would get called a liar.

And it had been four years now, people should have started realising that the boy spoke truth more often than not.

Following that logic, Voldemort really was back and sometime between this year and the next it would get revealed and the public would go back to kissing Potters heels in the hopes that he’d save them.

Rita wasn’t a good person, she didn’t care much either way for the fates of muggleborns or half-bloods, but she did _not_ want Voldemort to take over again. That scaly bastard would censor the press so hard they’d might as well just send out blank parchment.

If he came back to power her career was over.

So she’d listen to Potter, more than likely print what ever he had to say. Oh she’d get a lot of shit for it, probably from the minister and Dumbledore both, but the truth would come out, and she’d be proven right. And _nothing_ was more vindicating to a speculative journalist than being proven right.

“Ms Skeeter.” A voice greeted.

Rita turned.

“Mr – Mr Potter?” Her eyes grew comically wide behind her studded glasses.

He chuckled, “Yes, yes. I did have a bit of a growth spurt over the summer. Quite shocking, I know.”

“More than Quite.” She breathed, “Do tell, Mr Potter.”

“Oh, I plan to. But first I need some reassurances.” Harry looked around once, twice. “Cast some silencing spells.”

Rita raised her wand, casting a heavy secrecy ward around their booth. Various patrons of the leaky cauldron slumped in disappointment; what they wouldn’t give to be a ladle in _that_ potion.

Harry hummed in satisfaction when he recognised the spell, “Clever, Skeeter, I’m bound by the secrecy spells just as much as you are. But I’m afraid this doesn’t cover you’re little secret, not unless I directly mention it.”

“Dammit, Potter.” She cursed, if the damn spell had worked he’d have lost his leverage on her, “You’re too smart for your own good, you know that?”

“I’m getting used to being told so.” He chuckled.

“Right then, I’m assuming my usual quill is not going to be partaking in this conversation.”

“Brilliant deduction.” He said dryly.

“So,” She started, quill poised to write on the fresh parchment she’d acquired from thin air, “Let’s start with just where you’ve been all summer, Mr Potter. The public really, really wants to know.”

“Well, my godfathers –“

“Godfathers you say?”

“Why yes, Ms Skeeter. Sirius Black and his mate Remus Lupin, it _is_ on my Gringotts file.”

“The notorious murderer Sirius Black?”

“He’s innocent. I’ve been telling people for years, but nobody wants to look into his case.”

“Surely his guilt was proven at his trail.”

“That’s just it, Ms Skeeter. They never gave my godfather a trail. The country we absconded to was able to verify his innocence in a matter of hours and grant him asylum, it is shameful that our own country has failed to do the same.”

“My word, Then it is a good thing he escaped that awful place.” Rita’s tone dripped fake sympathy ,”Now, I heard you say Remus Lupin was your godfathers mate. Can we assume you mean this in something other than the friendly sense or…”

“Yes. Remus is a werewolf, as everyone knows from that debacle in my third year, so when they turned sixteen they realised that they were destined for each other.”

“And you don’t feel unsafe around him?”

“Of course not!” Harry placed a palm on his chest. “Remus is a wonderful, kind man who was turned as a child. He does not deserve even a speck of the prejudice our world has thrown against him and I won’t stand for that kind of discrimination.”

“But he is still dangerous, Mr Potter, isn’t he?”

“Merlin no. Remus takes his potions every full moon and even then I’m kept very far from where he’ll be running, just in case.”

“This would be the wolfsbane potion?”

“Please,” Harry scoffed, “that is a poison designed to, yes allow an afflicted person to keep their mind, but also accelerate the aging process and weaken the wolf. Taking the wolfsbane more than halves a werewolf’s life expectancy.”

“What?” Rita gasped, “That was not taught in Potions class.”

“I suspect that was on purpose, Ms Skeeter. An effective way to cull the werewolf population under the radar, is it not?”

“That is truly awful. I will do some research into this, I swear it.”

“Thank you, Ms Skeeter.”

“Now, where have you been.”

“Well we simply went on vacation. I can’t tell you which country, of course, for the sake of protecting their government and any chance at future escapades. I can, however, promise you that I came to Sirius and Remus, I was in no way kidnapped or coerced into leaving. It was my choice.”

“I take it you had a good time.”

“Yes. We, that is Sirius and I, saw mind healers. We also got healed in the more literal sense by a friend of the family.”

“Why did you both need mind and physical healing?”

“Well, Sirius obviously spent the better part of twelve years locked up with dementors. That’s going to leave damage on anyone, he still has sessions twice a week. Me, on the other hand.” Harry took a breath, “I suppose my issues stem from childhood. I’m not sure if this is public knowledge but up until this year I lived with my mother’s sister.”

“A muggle?”

“Yes. Unfortunately she holds prejudice against the magical world and as a result I cannot say my childhood was a happy one. Of course, not all muggles are like that, I am in not saying I hate all muggles – my relatives were just the bad sort.”

“But you’re the heir to a noble house! Are you truly saying you knew nothing of our culture and your responsibilities?”

“Oh believe me, catching up has been a pain. You would not believe how many toes I’ve stepped on by accident. As a matter of fact; I would like to give a blanket apology to everyone I accidentally insulted these past four years – I truly did not know any better.”

“I am sorry for your misfortune Mr Potter.”

“As am I.” He said, “But I also needed some mind healing due to the fact that I witnessed my classmate, my friend, die at the hands of the same genocidal maniac that murdered my parents.”

Rita gasped in fake surprise, “You don’t mean…”

“I do. Voldemort is returned. Peter Pettigrew performed a ritual in a grave yard in little Hangleton, using my blood, to resurrect him.”

“But Peter Pettigrew is dead!”

“Check with Gringotts, I can assure you he is not and that he is the real traitor who sold out my parents.”

Rita connected the dots fast, “They switched secret keepers?”

“Yes. Sirius was far too obvious, you see?”

“Ah,” she said. “But the ministry has been saying it was a lie all summer.”

“I’ve read their latest on me. And I cannot believe they would stoop so low as to launch a smear campaign on a minor. Honestly.” He huffed, “I am alright with inquisitions into my life, seeing as I am a public figure whether I like it or not, but this goes too far. They should be ashamed of themselves.”

“Oh I understand completely, Mr Potter, I myself will admit to writing on your more personal endeavours, but so far I have steered clear of directly slandering a child – a concept some of my colleagues can’t seem to grasp unfortunately.”

“And I am grateful for that. However I know what I saw, I have the scar to show where Pettigrew cut me and the memories to prove it.” Harry lifted his sleeve to show of the raised pale skin, “I’d be willing to allow you to view them.”

“I’d have to check they were not tampered with.”

“You are an experienced reporter, I’m sure you’ve had to do that more than once.”

Harry handed her a vial, he’d come prepared. “My godfathers made copies of the memory, you can keep that one.”

“Thank you for the interview potter.” She said, placing the parchment back on the table with a catlike grin, “I’ll just check facts then this will be published by… say, you’re first day of school. So three days.”

“Excellent, Skeeter. I believe it would benefit you to know that I’ll be taking a trip to the ministry tomorrow to have a little chat with one Amelia Bones after my school shopping.”

“Thanks for the tip, Potter.”

“I believe this could be the start of a wonderful professional relationship.” Harry offered her his hand.

Rita grabbed it and shook it once, “I agree.”

 

-0-

 

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, supreme mugwump,  chief warlock, and Headmaster of Hogwarts, was having an awful day.

Or, should he say, _another_ awful day in an entirely awful summer.

It had all started when he lost the boy. Barely a week into the holidays and the idiotic child runs away to who knows where. It had been fine, at first, a little time on the streets would wear the boy down, make him even more grateful when Albus welcomed him back into the wizarding world with open arms.

But then, somehow, the bloody press had found out.

They’d tore him to shreds, calling him everything from crooked-nosed goat to a senile fool, the amount of howlers he’d received in the past two months alone would have required an entire forest worth of paper.

And then, to make matters infinitely worse, he’d lost control of his spies – not that they _knew_ they were spies.

Before Harry had ever set foot in Hogwarts he’d arranged for him to be friends with the Weasley boy. Molly had been all too willing to do anything it took to ensure it. The Weasleys were as light as they came, the perfect family and friends to show the world just what Harry potter believed in. He’d made absolutely sure Molly raised her children with a healthy dose of contempt for everything dark and Slytherin, all in the hopes that Ron’s attitude would one day rub off onto Harry.

And that Granger girl. She’d fallen right into his lap. With her staunch respect for authority and her reverence for him it was easy to get her to tell him what her dear friend Harry was up to. Of course, he’d had to arrange for that little encounter with the troll, and shoot a few compulsions at the boys to cement the friendship – but after that the girl had come to him with any worries she might have had.

Granger had never _had_ friends before, and that made it incredibly easy for Albus to manipulate her ideas of loyalty and trust – and if he had to force feed the girl half a bowl of compulsion laced lemon drops every other week to do it, then that was no one’s business but his own.

And it had been working!

Perfectly, in fact. From what he could see the Granger girl had kept the two boys feeling awful about their academic situation and Ron’s random bouts of jealousy made Harry feel ashamed of his fame. A few more years and Harry would be just what they needed, a hero – uninformed but willing to die for the cause, assured in the fact that it was his duty to fall in the line of battle.

Albus really should have seen it coming.

Something had shifted in their third year. He’d become lax on the compulsion charms and with the  dementors running around he never had time to talk to either of his little pawns. In that time, those three or four months where his attention had been elsewhere, were enough for those three idiots to form a true, actual friendship.

He’d wanted to scream in frustration. Two years of mental conditioning, all tossed down the drain, just like that.

And he hadn’t even noticed until well after the time travel fiasco. He’d called Hermione to his office, expecting the usual slew of information and had instead been met with suspicious eyes and a tense jaw. She’d refused his candies, tossed of his lighter compulsions –  and that’s what he got for throwing them at her every other day for three years: the girl was immune – and quickly left.

He didn’t know what she knew. But the girl had figured out _something_. And his attempts at covering it up may have just confirmed her suspicions.

He’d been given a spark of hope at the start of fourth year, when Ron had turned his back on their precious saviour. And then the first task came, followed by that Merlin damned apology, and it seemed that the two boys had never been closer.

Albus _had_ wanted them to be friends, of course.

But he’d wanted Harry to be as isolated as possible, his only friends neck deep in Albus’s pocket and firmly light. He’d selected people specifically that would all but destroy his self confidence and make sure he knew just how invaluable his life was. Hermione was judgemental and blindly followed authority, and Ron was selfish and spiteful – he saw no reason any of that should change.

But that’s just the thing – they _had_ changed. He spent so long thinking of how the two could change Harry, he’d never thought about how Harry would change _them_.

It frustrated him to no end. His pawns were supposed to serve their purpose: give him eyes and ears into Harry’s life and mould him into the hero the light needed – they were _not_ supposed to get attached.

They knew where the boy had run off to. They were far too relaxed then they would have been if they were truly in the dark about his whereabouts. Nothing barring legilimency, which he couldn’t attempt as the girl was a damned natural occlumens and Molly would have his head if he tried that on Ron, had gotten it out of them.

And now, now that the boy had finally come back, two days before school started no less, he finds that not only did that bloody mutt and the werewolf have a direct hand in stealing his pawn away, but they’d also undone _all_ of his hard work.

He didn’t have confirmation yet, but he knew – he _knew_ – they’d taken him to see a mind healer. From Molly’s memories alone it was obvious. The boy had been healed, completely in the physical sense and mostly in the mental sense. He was confident, snarky, and sarcastic, everything Albus had tried to avoid. The only good thing that could come of this was that Severus wouldn’t be so whiny about having to keep his cover – _Albus there is really no need for me to be so cruel_ this, and _Albus I can’t do this anymore_ that – honestly all the quality potions and spying almost weren’t worth it.

And Sirius. Merlin, Sirius was an unimaginable mess on his own. How had he even _learned_ about his disownment, or lack thereof? Now he had Molly Weasley ranting at him about being kicked out of Grimmuald place, useful as she was she was working on his last nerve.

Molly hadn’t even been the worst of it, the entire order seemed incapable of being even slightly discreet in their contempt of Black and now they’d lost Grimmuald. Merlin damned Fletcher had opened his yammer about Lupin, even after witnessing Molly being thrown out for it and the subsequent warning against it, and Sirius had closed the entire house. The only on still in the house was Granger and she was now completely loyal to Harry so any hopes of getting back in there were shot to hell.

And then that damned, infuriating child had gone to the ministry, he’d actually gone straight to Amelia Bones and _succeeded_ in getting Sirius acquitted. Sirius now had _legal_ custody of Harry and there was absolutely nothing (legal) he could do about it.

 _Fuck_.

He didn’t know how he’d be able to turn this around. Everything he’d done, everything he’d sacrificed was for the greater good; the lives of a handful of individuals for the livelihood of thousands would be a fair trade to anyone – and if he was the only one willing to make it then so be it.

If he sat back the wizarding world would fall within the decade to the dark faction, there would be no stopping the reinstatement of dark rituals and rites that would corrupt the poor, innocent magical children. Any progress at all he’d made towards dissolving the statue of secrecy would be for naught. They’d never get to share their wonders with the muggles.

No. He couldn’t give up now. His plans were not yet ruined completely, this was just… a minor setback. He could reign Harry in, regain control of Granger and Weasley – he might have to arrange an accident for the mutt and his mate but if that’s what the greater good required he would gladly pay the price.

Molly paused for a moment before yammering on about dark influences on innocent minds.

Albus sighed.

 

-0-

 

“Padfoot?” Harry asked.

“Yeah?”

“Are you aware of the wards around your mothers portrait?” Merina had been training Harry’s ability to sense magic since their first session – in her words, there’s nothing more vital to someone who regularly places themselves in harms way then the ability to sense whether the wards are keeping them, trapping them, or hiding something.

“Those are just the sticking charms,” Sirius waved a hand, “ s’what makes her impossible to remove.”

Harry moved closer to the sneering Wulburga, frowning slightly as she cursed up a storm. “No, no. I can feel the sticking charm. This is something else entirely.”

“What do you mean, Harry?” Hermione asked as she came to stand next to Harry.

“I can feel the sticking charm right around the frame, it feels like half dried glue on your fingers,” Harry ran his finger down the paint, ignoring the way Wulburga seemed to bite at his hand, “But _on_ the portrait is something else, it’s – it’s” Harry pursed his lips, “It feels like heavy mask and a constricting cloak. Somethings not right here.”

Remus stepped forward and closed his eyes, digging into his conscious until he flitted between planes of existence, he wasn’t as good at this as Harry – no one but Merina was even half as good as Harry at slipping between planes – but he was better than Sirius. For a second he felt nothing but tacky fingers, then the sensation hit him; like someone had packed clay onto his face and mummified his body.

He leaped away from the wall.

“What the fuck _was_ that?”

Harry snorted, “That’s why I brought it up.”

Sirius poked at the portrait, Harry thought he was doing it solely to gain the indignant squawks from his mother, “We could always just try and take them down.”

“Lets,” Harry said at the same time Remus and Hermione said, “No.”

Sirius and Harry turned to them and said, “Why not?”

“ _Because_ ,” The werewolf said in exasperation, “We have no idea what the ward does. What if when we remove it the entire house collapses. What if it _explodes_.”

They looked at each other, then back to Remus and Hermione. Hermione looked away first but Remus held their gaze for thirty two long seconds before sighing.

“Fine,” He huffed, “Bring ‘em down.”

“Yes!” Harry cheered while Sirius did a little jig. Remus looked to the heavens for answers while Hermione buried her face in her palms.

“So, how do you wanna do this?” Sirius asked.

“Dunno, we could just overpower them?” Harry suggested.

“Between the four of us, or, you know, just Harry, we _do_ have enough power to crack anything short of the fidelius.” Sirius nodded.

“No, nope, not happening. I am using my veto.” Remus interrupted, “Using power to crack it will have us all lethargic for weeks – and unless I’m mistaken _some of us_ are due on the train back to Hogwarts tomorrow.”

“Ugh,” Sirius pouted, “I hate it when you make sense.”

“One of us has to use our brains, love.” Remus patted his cheek with a smirk. “Harry is literally a protegee spell sensor. Just have him sniff out the knots of the ward and untangle them. Merlin, not everything needs to be about explosive displays of power.”

“Hey, you’re the one who brought up explosions.” Harry smirked.

“Just untangle the wards, you would’ve-been-Slytherin.” Remus sighed.

“Oi! I resent that.” Harry snickered when Remus glared, “Alright, alright, I’ll get to it.”

Harry shut his eyes and melted into his own mind, when he opened them again the world was tinted red like a club. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the sensation of traveling between planes, it was like you were in your body, but not. Like you were there, but not. He knew his body wouldn’t move in the regular plane, and so any actions taken in the magical plane were taken by a semi corporal projection of your conscious – at least, that’s how Merina explained it.

Harry ran his fingers down the sides of the frame, the sticky fingers sensation that signified the sticking charm, it was simply cast but tied to the ward stones of the ancient house. Harry gave the magic an experimental tug with his metaphorical fingers. The house groaned in protest somewhere in the distance . Removing the charms would, as Remus had suggested, probably cause the roof to collapse. He released the thread and focused on the main portion of the painting.

Merina had taught him the art of warding and she’d done it well, making sure he learned the equally important art of de-warding. They’d spend hours practicing so that Harry could slip into that otherworldly plane where magic was visible with barley a few minutes meditation. Merina, of course, could slip into the plane in seconds, but Harry was still learning.

Every few days she would come to him with two boxes, one warded and one not. She’d test how long it took him to break her wards and then test how long it took _her_ to break _his_. He’d learned the difference between a thick old slab of magic that one just had to power through to break and an intricate network of weaved power that took much longer to pick apart.

His own warding still wasn’t up to par – Merina could tear them down within five minutes – but his de-warding skills were exemplary.

So Harry locked onto that strange constricting power that writhed through the canvas. It was a ward the likes of he’d scarcely seen, an odd combination of random knots, a layer of pure magic, and then another layer of tangled threads. It was, quite honestly, a mess – but Harry supposed that’s what made it effective, undoing this would take _forever_.

He started on the frayed edges, whoever had done this hadn’t had time to finish – with how intricate the rest of it was, Harry highly doubted the caster would intentionally leave the edges loose. It took Harry… well, it took him a _while_ to get through the first layer. Time was a bit wonky in the plane, in real time it could have been anywhere between two minutes to two hours, though Harry was leaning on the latter. He kept getting stuck in areas where the caster had weaved the thread of magic through another layer of the ward – it was frustrating, at the very least.

Then the second layer was pure magic, thick and bubbling in anger at being disturbed. Harry quickly got to work at chipping it to pieces. This method was different to overpowering a ward only in the fact that overpowering a ward meant pouring your own magic in until it overcame the casters, while chipping at it meant ripping it apart through sheer force of will.

Overpowering, surprisingly, was much, much easier.

Most ward masters stuck to overpowering as chipping was, essentially, posturing – except you _had_ to have the power to back it up. You had to draw your magic to you, wrap it around you and _show_ the ward that you were stronger. If you succeeded the magic would freeze over into a type of wall that could be chipped away into nothing.

You didn’t have to have power to overpower a ward, just the willingness to spend a few days unconscious, but it was quintessential to chipping.

Harry was quite possibly the most powerful wizard of his generation, and perhaps the last four as well.

The magic conceded in seconds, and it was _powerful_ magic too, almost no one else would have been able to cow it. There was nothing quite like the feeling of defeated magic, yes it was exhilarating, but it also felt… wrong. The magic wailed in despair before hardening into a wall, Harry sighed in relief as the defeated magic, in a sense, died.

Soon he was on to the last layer. Distantly he could here Wulburga screaming every insult she could think of at the group – good, he was close to the core of the ward if the regular plane was so close. The last layer was like the first, only seven times worse.

Harry dug in, pulling strand after strand out and watching as they dissolved into nothing. Finally he pulled the last knot loose, surveying his work he nodded to himself. That should be all of th – wait. Harry stopped before he pulled out of the magic plane.

There, subtle and innocent as you please, lay one more layer of warding.

The strands were thin, so thin they were barely shining with that light that was used to identify wards in the plane, helped by the fact that they were seemingly sewn into the very canvas. Harry could not believe he almost missed them – all that work and absolutely nothing would have happened if he hadn’t dismantled the last layer.

Harry plucked at a strand and froze.

Oh, _oh_.

He’d suspected that beneath the wards was a black family secret, maybe Wulburga’s painting swung open to reveal an alcove of forbidden books or heirlooms. But he was not expecting _this_. The first three layers had been obvious and gaudy, meant to be seen – they were a distraction. It would have been all to easy to not have noticed the feeble final layer. This was not a protection ward like the others.

This ward was what caused that suffocating feeling of having a mask glued to your face, because that’s essentially what it did.

It was an incredibly unique ward in that it was almost exclusively used on living people, sewn into their skin like a tattoo. the mask could be whatever the caster desired, trapping the victim within.

It was despicable magic, the kind that left a sour note on your soul. Things like that… they didn’t come without a price; it took part of your magical core, using it to keep the victim in it’s thrall, and in exchange replaced it with pure darkness. It marked you so that anyone who cared to look would know what you’d done, and it was impossible to disguise.

It fought back when Harry attacked.

He grabbed at the strands with both hands, holding tighter as it struck out like a viper. He yanked, gritting his teeth and screaming (in the magic plane, of course, the only evidence of his struggle on the regular plane was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead) as it yanked back.

This magic was held in place by a part of someones core, a very strong someone, but Harry was stronger. The ward had to relinquish it’s hold, screeching at Harry even as he severed the last of it from the canvas. This wasn’t the same as usual wards, he couldn’t just release it to the plane, it would simply spring back into the portrait – he had to destroy it in its entirety.

So Harry pushed. He felt his magic well in his chest, flowing through his arms and into his fingers where he shoved as much of it as he could into the length of black magic. As he pushed he felt his corporal form dissolving, the magic maintaining his features sucked in with the rest of it. The cord wriggled in his fingers, the only part of his body that had remained, getting larger and larger as Harry flushed out the casters magic with his own.

Then, when Harry though he might actually exhaust all the magic he had, something happened. His magic started flowing faster, stronger then it had been before, and where the excess magic was coming from he didn’t know but it was still _coming_. Harry let it flow, allowed himself to be the conduit to destroy the evil ward in his projected fingers.

All at once and a hundred times over, the cord exploded and with it every bit of magic he’d poured into it. He heard screaming, perhaps his own or possibly Wulburga’s, and then the exploded magic changed directions.

Instead of dissipating into the surroundings the magic turned, like thousands of charged spears aimed right at Harry's metaphorical chest, and they were flying at him.

It didn’t hurt, not in the slightest. This was nothing like when the goblins unblocked his core. Instead – instead it was, well, _magical_. They struck him, each hit absorbing the power back into his body – and his body had been rebuilt by now. Dully, he noted that the bit of the casters soul had been apart of the magic he’d reabsorbed.

Well, Harry supposed he just had an even larger core now.

He closed his eyes.

“Harry,” Sirius said as Harry blinked himself back into the regular plane, “Harry, are you alright?”

“M’ fine, Siri.” He rubbed at his chest, that extra bit of magic was going to take some getting used to, “How long was I out?”

“About five hou-“

“Sirius?” A soft voice called, then, louder and more desperate, “Sirius?!”

Sirius dropped to his knees and _screamed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, As you can tell im leaving you poor sods on a bit of a cliffhanger (though its not much because im pretty sure we all know what just happend) Hope you enjoyed it my lovelies <3
> 
> Planes of Magic explanation:  
> So my whole idea was that magic is visible on a whole nother plane of existence almost. And you have to be trained to tap into this plane, which is why Merina and Harry find it easy (Cuz they practice) and Remus has a difficult time maintaining his presence there. In the magic plane wards can be seen, either as cords or blocks of magic - i guess in theory if you were watching a duel in the magic plane the spells would look different too but its more for things you can't usually see like under invisibility cloaks or whatever. When your in the magic plane you are essentially astral projecting and so using magic to keep yourself present. Harry being as powerful as he is can afford to spend alot longer in the plane then many would consider safe and as such can dismantle wards in hours when it would take someone else weeks due to the need to take breaks. Learning to make wards is harder than dismantling them for Harry only because warding is a skill that takes years to perfect while he has an almost unlimited time in the magic plane to unravel wards whereas most only have an hour at a time.
> 
> If you have anymore questions about the planes ask in the comments.
> 
> Much love  
> -ideasofmarch


	8. Revelations and publications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo,  
> I honestly just couldn't stop writing after last chapter, so ya'll can have this one a bit early. You finally get to meet Theo! be exited. ANd see why Sirius screamed oOoOh what could it be??? I actually don't have anything to say for once in the notes to i'm fucking around. Anyhoo enjoy the chap you crazy kids  
> Much love,  
> Ideasofmarch

They all just gaped at Sirius for a moment.

Honestly, what more could they do? One second he was fine, easily helping his godson out of the magic plane, and the next he was on his knees screaming bloody murder. And by Merlin he was _screaming_ , holding his head between his hands like he would tear it off just to dull the pain. Harry grimaced and looked away, the sight reminding him just a tad too much of his own experience under a bright red curse.

“Sirius!” A voice shouted again – and nobody had time to investigate just who’s it was as they sprung to action.

Remus dropped and pulled Sirius against his chest, hugging him tightly to contain his tremors. Harry flicked his wand and distractedly grabbed a pillow that flew through the air, deftly handing it to Remus.

Hermione pursed her lips at him, “You’re teaching me that when we get back to school.”

“Course’ ‘Mione.” Harry chuckled weakly.

Slowly Sirius stopped screaming, the shouts turning to whimpers that were somehow more heart-breaking. His eyes were still shut tight but his hands clutched at Remus instead of his own hair. He was shaking ever so slightly, and Harry suspected that if Remus wasn’t holding him he’d be holding his knees and rocking.

“Sirius,” Remus asked against his mates hair, “Are you alright?”

“Re-Remus?”

“Yes, love. I’m right here.”

“Remus.” Sirius said with a sob.

Hermione grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged him out of the hallway. Remus shot her a grateful look over Sirius’s shoulder.

“What happened, Sirius?”

“My head. He – he – they –“ Sirius closed his eyes tight.

“Who, Sirius?”

“Albus.” He breathed, “Albus, and – and Molly, and… I can’t remember all their names.”

Remus frowned, “What did they do?”

“They changed him.” Walburga Black spat from her portrait, her anger just as evident as when she was shouting at them just minutes before – but very clearly aimed at someone else.

“M-mum?” And his voice was so broken that Remus wanted to murder – no, that was to easy, he wanted to fucking _maim_ anyone who was even remotely responsible.

Walburga’s face softened, heartbreak falling across her features in a way that mirrored the exact look on her son’s face.

“Welcome back, son.”

 Sirius’s answering laugh was more of a sob, “Right back at ‘cha.”

Remus scrunched his brows in confusion, “Does anyone want to fill me in?”

“Mr Lupin,” Walburga smiled something vicious, “A pleasure to meet you – properly, this time.”

“Uh,” He said smartly.

“Remus, the portrait from before… that wasn’t my mother. And – and I haven’t been myself for a _very_ long time.”

“What? How – but – what?”

“ _Celaveritas_ was cast on my portrait.” Walburga growled out. “by that moronic, meddling _fool_.”

“ _Celaveritas_ is a ward.” Sirius said when he noticed Remus’s confusion, “It’s black magic, the kind that requires a bit of your soul in return. It hides the true person beneath a mask of the casters choosing and is notorious for its near imperviousness to dismantling. You’d have to be, well you’d have to be somewhere close to _Merlin_ in strength to get rid of it.”

“And Harry broke the ward.” Remus whistled lowly.

“Guess Ganzi was right.” Sirius mumbled.

“Sirius, what do you mean you haven’t been yourself?”

“Well, I guess that came out wrong.” Sirius pouted, “It’s more like… like certain aspects of my personality have been either oppressed or enhanced. _Celaveritas_ is too obvious on a person. See – the mask is very… one-dimensional, and they needed me to be social so that was out. They used compulsions, mainly – I’m pretty sure there was an obliviate or… twenty.”

Wulburga and Sirius grimaced together.

“Sirius has always been more… outspoken, than the average Black. But he was still a _Black_. When we sent him off to Hogwarts we knew there was at the very least a fifty percent chance of him being thrown in with the lions, but then he got sorted and he didn’t even write to tell us – ignored all our letters too.”

“Sirius never _got_ any letters.” Remus said in confusion.

“Yes, we started to suspect that halfway through second year.” Walburga sighed. “When he got home for the summer… it was like he was a different person. He wouldn’t speak to us and only looked at us if he was glaring at us. Sometimes he’d just storm out of a room as if we’d had an argument.”

“I feel like I have two sets of memories.” Sirius rubbed his temple again, “One where we were at each other’s throats and you’d curse me as a punishment, and another where you were just concerned parents.”

“It only got worse each year. Then, when he was sixteen, we were all having dinner. Suddenly he just stood up, started screaming up and down how we were Voldemort’s lackeys and he couldn’t bare to live with us anymore. He just… he just left – went to Dorea’s place.” Walburga smiled sadly, “ She fire called me later that night, asked me what in the world I’d done. We – Orion and I – we practically begged her to make sure you stayed safe.”

“Everyone always forgets that Aunt Dorea was a Black before she was a Potter.” Sirius said softly.

“It broke our hearts.” Walburga’s voice was barely a whisper, “You wanted nothing to do with us, but at least you were with family.”

“They were clever, actually.” Sirius scowled, “Planted fake memories with delayed releases – made it _feel_ real.”

“The compulsions,” Remus said, “Is that the reason…” He hesitated.

“The Snape incident?” Sirius asked.

“Yeah,” He frowned, “The Snape incident.”

Sirius sucked on the inside of his cheek, “It – it was my _idea_. But that’s all it was supposed to be – an idea. Snape was hounding me about where you went every month and I just – I thought: Why not just give him what he wants, curiosity killed the cat and all that,” he laughed bitterly, “That night I got a missive from Dumbledore. I met him in his office and he – he…”

Remus rubbed circles into his back, “You don’t have to…”

 “No,” He took a steadying breath, “no, I do. He updated my compulsions. Made me more aggressive and reckless, I think he did something to make me angry too, at Slytherins specifically. Merlin every time I even saw the colour green I just – I felt this _urge_ to hex something, more often than not a Slytherin. Anyway, he obliviated me afterwards and sent me on my way,” He snorted,” I ran straight to Snape and told him to come to the shack.”

Sirius dropped his head in – shame? Anger? _Fear_? A combination of all three, maybe.

“Hey,” Remus gripped Sirius’s chin and lifted it when he looked away, “You know I’ve already forgiven you. Only difference is that now I know there was never anything _to_ forgive.”

“Remus,” Sirius’s eyes darted everywhere his for a moment before finally settling on Remus’s, “Do you – do you still love me?”

“What kind of question is that? _Of_ _course_ I love you. Why would you even _think_ otherwise?”

“Because, without the compulsions and shit, I’m not the person you fell in love with.”

“Sirius,” Remus sighed, “Nothing – _nothing_ could change the way I feel about you.”

“But you don’t even know me!”

“Oh, shut up. What did you say those compulsions were?”

“Uh, ones to increase my aggression,  recklessness, hatred towards the ‘dark’ – and then the memories, but I think that’s it.”

“Right. Remember on your seventeenth birthday, you got drunk and got up on that table. Gave a whole speech for yourself, I think it was twenty minutes long – you managed to fit in a spiel about you’re greatness, _James_ ’s greatness, confessed your undying love for me, complimented everybody you knew the name of, _and_ started a rendition of dancing queen. I don’t think the compulsions made you do that. And that time we were laying on the grass outside, and you started crying because you thought that maybe the squid was just lonely and needed a hug – none of those compulsions add in to that. _And_ when you –”

“Okay, okay.” Sirius laughed through his tears, “I get it.”

“I loved your dumb ass despite the irrational hatred and recklessness. The way I see it, now I’ll just get less headaches from trying to keep you out of trouble.”

“I love you too, moony.”

Remus smiled and leaned forward to nuzzle Sirius’s neck, he practically purred.

“Oh dear Merlin,” Wulburga said, horrified. The mates turned as one to look at her, “My son is a _Hufflepuff_.”

Sirius looked indignant while Remus threw his head back and _cackled_.

“Oi! I know some _very_ kick ass Hufflepuffs.”

“I’m sorry, Siri.” Remus said between giggles, “I – just – I’m imagining you in the greenhouse, hu-hugging a _tree_.”

“That is stereotyping and I am very disappointed in you,” Sirius said gravely.

“Not to say this isn’t a riveting conversation,” Harry shouted, “But can we come down now?”

This was followed by a loud slap and a “they are having a private discussion, you dolt.”

“You two can come down now,” Remus called out.

“See ‘Mione,” Harry said as he dragged her down the stairs, “I told you they were done.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay to _snoop_.”

“Have you even met me?” Harry raised an eyebrow, “Snooping is my middle name.”

“your middle name is James.” She deadpanned.

“Duh,” He said, “Hadrian James Snooping Danger Potter.”

“Danger?”

“It’s for future reference.”

“Why am I friends with you again?”

“Troll.”

“Ah,” She said, “Stupid troll.”

“Don’t lie, ‘Mione. You love me.”

Hermione let out a long suffering sigh, “I suppose I do.”

“You warm my heart when you say such sweet things.”

Harry placed a hand on his heart, Hermione responded by almost pushing him off the staircase.

“Harry, Hermione,” Sirius said when they finally reached the hall, “I’d like you to meet my mother.”

Harry dropped into a bow, “Lady Black.”

Hermione looked at her friend curiously for a moment before attempting a clumsy curtsy, “Um, nice to meet you, Lady Black.

“We’re gonna have to work on that curtsey.” Harry grimaced.

Hermione elbowed him.

“Heir Potter, Miss Granger. It is good to meet you both as well.” Walburga smiled. “I am pleased to have two of the brightest magicals of the age in my presence. And don’t look so weary, Miss Granger, I’m not going to curse you.”

“So,” Hermione said after a moment, “You _don’t_ care that I’m a muggleborn?”

“Of course not,” She scoffed.

Hermione looked dubious.

Walburga sighed, “The prejudice was never even _about_ muggleborns. In my day, nobody gave a hoot whether your parents were magical or not.”

“Really?” Harry said, “Then what was it about?”

“Culture, obviously.” She waved a hand flippantly, “The wizarding world has been secluded for more than three hundred years. Our way of life to muggles are nothing more than myth. They even teach of our gods as fiction. Most muggleborns readjusted after a month or two in our world, but some – mostly the devout Christians, reject our beliefs.”

“And that’s cause for prejudice?!” Hermione said, indignant.

“We wouldn’t care if they kept to themselves. It’s no skin off our backs if they loose favour with the gods,” Walburga sniffed, “But they didn’t. They started systematically destroying our culture. I’m not sure how bad it is now but by the time I died nearly all our holidays were banned on account of them being dark.”

“They _what_?” Hermione’s eyes were wide as saucers.

“Yes,” She nodded grimly, “They made it illegal to practice the old religions, as well as instating the magical equivalent of the Nuremburg laws.”

“We aren’t allowed to practice dark magic – something that’s entirely natural to nearly half of the British pureblood families. Our homes can be raided at any time, we were forced to turn in any ‘dark’ items – even if they were heirlooms. I think at one point in the seventies we even had a curfew.” Sirius Listed when he saw Hermione look like she was about to protest.

“But that’s – that’s.” Hermione spluttered, only managing to get out, “Nazis!”

“It’s worse than that, actually.” Sirius added.

“How?” She cried.

“Well, the laws don’t just hurt the dark faction. Britain’s average magical prowess is one of the lowest in the world, mostly because we shun half of all magic. Almost nobody has a magical core that is completely light or dark, usually its some combination of the two.”

Harry nodded along, “Like the Blacks have predominantly dark cores and the Potters are known for having relatively neutral cores.”

“Yeah,” Sirius smiled, “So in recent years Dark families, like the Blacks, are loosing their power because it’s not being used and light families, like the Weasleys, are going steady. It’s a slow and steady genocide – magic plays a huge factor in birth, so less magic available equals less babies, eventually the line just dies out and the ministry gets to pretend it wasn’t intentional at all.”

“That’s just – that’s despicable!” Hermione said then paused, “Wait – if magic is needed for birth, how do muggles reproduce?”

“Magical and muggle anatomy is similar, but not identical.” Walburga said, “A magical body is made to be able to handle all sorts of stresses that a muggle body in not, like apparition or transfiguration. There’s a reason one of the first lessons at Hogwarts is to not attempt any sort of magical alteration on a muggle – they just cannot handle it and will more than likely die. A witch’s magic maintains a pregnancy because the magical body evolved in a way that it provides extra protection to just about every organ by taking away what is usually afforded to the reproductive system.”

Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it, then sighed, “I’m going to have to write that down. _Why_ is this not taught in school?”

“It is easier to take advantage of the ignorant, Miss Granger.”

“Harry,” She said, her voice more of a growl than anything else, “We’re starting a study group.”

Her tone left no room for negotiation.

“Do you plan to educate every student in Hogwarts?” Walburga asked incredulously.

“I plan to educate as many as possible.” Hermione looked at Harry and hummed, “He’s the chosen one, people will come if he asks – plus he’s hot now.”

Walburga scrunched her brows – in a very dignified manner, mind you – before nodding her approval, “Using his social pull and physique to accomplish your goals.” She grinned, “I _like_ you.”

“Thank you, Lady Black.”

“Oi!” Harry cut in, “Are you implying I wasn’t hot before?”

“Harry,” She started, “Before you were…”

“Scrawny.” Sirius suggested.

“Cute.” Remus offered.

“The size of a twelve year old.” Sirius nodded sagely.

“Adorable.”

“cheek squishable.”

“I was going to say okay looking.” Hermione scowled.

“ _Okay_ looking?!” Harry scoffed.

“Well you’ve always been pretty, but you were rather malnourished.”

“ _Pretty_?!” Harry said, “Hermione, that is _not_ better!”

“Oh shut up, Harry. You literally have doe eyes, high cheek bones, _and_ a killer jaw line. You _are_ pretty.” She sniffed.

Sirius laughed, “Face it, pup. Despite the general conscious, you look way more like your mother than your father.”

“Exactly,” Remus snorted, “Everyone is always like ‘oh, he’s a carbon copy of James with Lily’s eyes’, Please” He scoffed, “The only thing he got from James is his colouring and quidditch skills, the rest is all Lily.”

“You’re right, moony.” Sirius said looking at an indignant Harry.

“Next topic of conversation!” Harry said in a sorry attempt to save whatever was left of his dignity.

Walburga laughed, setting them all off into a series of giggles and snorts; through it all Harry stood with his arms crossed, scowling at each of them in turn, which only ever seemed to send them into another round of laughter.

 

-0-

 

“Ron!” Theo heard a voice shout. Definitely Potter, it was far too deep to be Granger’s.

Theo didn’t know why he turned, but he did and sweet baby mother of Merlin –

When did Potter get hot?

Potter had always been good looking, he supposed. What with those green eyes and fantastic bone structure. But now he was just – he was just… _fuck_.

Theo knew he was staring, but so was just about every other magical at the train station – he was pretty sure some fourth year Ravenclaw was drooling. Potter and co did not seem to register the extra attention as they talked and laughed and – _damn_ , Potter looked really good when he laughed.

Potter looked really good in general.

The train horn blared and Theo almost slapped himself.

 _Bad_ _Theo_ , he thought, _crushing on Potter is the exact opposite of not drawing attention._

 And that was Theo’s goal, his life’s mission, if you will. He wouldn’t say it out loud but something in him knew the Dark Lord was back, and the last thing you wanted as an heir to a Dark family who secretly thought the pureblood ideology was bullshit was attention. If he stayed quite, unnoticeable, there was a chance, not much of one but a chance none the less that he might not have to take the mark.

Well, at least until he graduated.

Only the impressive or annoying would be marked early, and Theo had every hope that, if he stalled for long enough, Potter would somehow manage to kill the genocidal madman and Theo would be free.

It was a ludicrous notion, that a boy his age – who was suddenly even more attractive – would be able to defeat the greatest dark lord of the century in the next two years, but it was better than nothing at all.

Theo stepped onto the train with a sigh.

Blaise was always here before him so he kept looking until he spotted his friend lounging in one of the furthest compartments.

“ _There_ you are.” The Italian drawled, “You’ve just missed Pansy.”

“Ah,” He said, “She’s gone of to fawn over Malfoy, then?”

Blaise snickered, “Poor girl, I’d just Avada myself at this point.”

“Same here, mate,” Theo shook his head in pity, “I don’t think I could do it.”

“Well, she only has to for another year or so, after that her parents lose control.”

“But what if they don’t hold off? What if they sign another contract before she’s seventeen?”

“Oh, calm yourself, Theo.” Blaise flicked his hand dismissively, “The Parkinson’s are obsessed with marrying into the Malfoys. They won’t do a thing if she keeps acting like she’ll sign the contract. And Malfoy likes the attention, he’ll encourage them enough to give them hope.”

Theo bit his lip, “I hope you’re right.”

Blaise scoffed, “Of course I am. And if not, she has a place at my house.”

Just then the door to the compartment was flung open, and Pansy slipped in with a groan.

“I’m going to murder that fucking peacock.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow, “Now, now,  Miss Parkinson. That language is rather unbecoming of the future Lady Malfoy.”

“I will murder you as well.” She said, stabbing a manicured nail into his arm.

Blaise yelped, “Aggressive as well. This is not how you were raised pansy.”

Theo snorted, which in turn made Blaise smirk – the equivalent of tossing his head back and laughing – and caused Pansy to giggle.

“Anyway,” Pansy said, “Did you guys _see_ Potter.”

Theo blushed, “Uh, yeah.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow, “No, why?”

“He got so fucking hot.” She smirked, “And it seems our little Theo here has a bit of a crush.”

“What!” He spluttered, “I do _not_!”

“ _Liar_.” Pansy said.

“I don’t!”

“Theo,” Blaise frowned, “You’ve held a torch for Potter since we were twelve.

“I did _not.”_

“You are an awful liar.”

“That’s not true, Blaise darling,” Pansy patted Theo’s knee in sympathy, “he just can’t lie to _us_.”

Theo opened his mouth to protest, thought about it for a moment, and then dropped his face into his hands, “I hate you both.”

“So he admits it!” Blaise smirked.

“I just –“ Theo groaned, “He’s so _brave_ and kind and, sweet Merlin he was cute, now he’s bloody gorgeous, kill me now please.”

“Oh, he has it bad.” Blaise stage whispered to Pansy.

“When exactly did you start liking him?” Pansy asked.

“Second year,” he mumbled, “I was walking back from the library, like twenty minutes before curfew, and around the corner is some first year snake, Roslin, I think, being bullied by some Gryffindors. I swear the Gryffs were at least fifth year. And I don’t know what I was going to do, _if_ I was going to do anything, but Potter comes in. He just shows up and throws himself between Roslin and a spell. It was a _cutting_ curse, if you can believe, practically tore Potter’s shoulder apart. The Gryffs ran but Harry stayed, pretended he wasn’t even hurt and comforted Roslin. He – he made sure she was safely back in Slytherin territory before heading to the hospital wing.”

And Merlin, after that incident Theo had been gone for Potter. His eyes kept straying to the Gryffindor table no matter how hard he tried. The past four years of listening to Malfoy insult Potter at every turn had been hell on Theo’s self-restraint – and he had a lot of it for not hexing the blonde prat silly every other day.

Pansy blinked owlishly, “Do you think he knew it was a cutting curse?”

“That’s the thing, I’m pretty sure he did.” Theo nodded, “We’d learned about them, like, a week before. And he jumped in front of it –“

“To save a snake.” Blaise finished for him. “If you ever _do_ end up dating Potter, Theo, I approve.”

“Me too.” Pansy said.

Theo sighed, “I don’t even know if he likes blokes. And dating Potter would very much draw the attention of a certain dark Lord, seeing as he’s, oh you know, on the bloody other side of the war.”

“Well, I’m neutral and both you and Pansy want a way out,” Blaise pointed out, “You could use Potter to jump ship.”

“We do want a way out,” Pansy agreed, “but we want to keep our inheritances as well.”

“This sucks.” Theo said, the other two murmuring their agreement.

“Anything from the trolley, dearies?” The trolley lady asked through the compartment door.

Theo got a sugar quill but other than that she was sent on her way. The three friends settled down for a long ride to Hogwarts.

 

-0-

 

“Harry!” Neville said, mouth agape in surprise.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked up from the laptop.

“Uh.”

“Hey, Nev.” Harry waved, “You wanna come in?”

“No, it’s alright. I just stopped by to tell you we’re arriving in twenty minutes.”

“Bloody hell,” Ron said, “how’d that happen?”

“Thank you, Neville.” Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron. Neville just smiled shyly and walked away.

“I guess this is where we leave you, then.” Alex said on the skype call.

Alex, Mia, Elani, and Andres were all squished in Alex’s room, trying to share the camera to no avail. They’d been skyping since an hour into the train ride, most of it filled with a very confusing attempt at a game of ‘go fish’, Alex monologing about missing Harry – sometime Harry could swear Sirius and Alex shared a singular brain cell – and Ron being quizzed, again, by Mia on when exactly she could meet his brother.

Malfoy, as usual, had shown up. Been thoroughly thrown off his game by both Harry’s new looks and the four American magicals glaring at him through a screen, and quickly fled.

“I guess so.” Harry said back.

“Oh, don’t look so glum, you two.” Hermione swatted at them, “We all promised that we’d have a call at least every Saturday.”

“Face it, ‘Mione.” Ron said dramatically, “Harry misses the wild life. The parties, the drinking, the _shagging_. We could never compete, he’s going to leave us for them.”

Hermione and Harry rolled their eyes simultaneously. The Americans cheered.

“Yes, Harry.” Elani winked, “Come over to the dark side.”

Mia snickered before adding, “We have cookies.”

“And booze.” Alex smirked.

“All three of you should transfer, honestly.” Elani said.

“We have much less near death experiences and far more parties.” Andres wiggled his eyebrows.

“Harry,” Ron said, “Maybe we _should_ consider it.”

“One, your mother would never let you. Two, Hermione’s parent’s wouldn’t either. Three, Voldemort.”

“Ugh.” Ron said.

“Ugh.” Harry agreed.

“I’m going to get dressed in the bathroom, you two better be done when I get back.” Hermione walked out the compartment.

“Aw come on,” Alex said when Harry went to disconnect the call, “It’s not like we haven’t all seen you naked at one point or another.

Mia winked.

He retracted his previous statement, the lot of them shared probably twelve brain cells, most of which usually resided with Andres and occasionally Elani.

Harry rolled his eyes in the most exaggerated manner he possibly could, “Bye guys.”

A chorus of goodbyes sounded before Harry shut the lap top.

“Merlin mate,” Ron nudged him, “I still can’t believe you slept with _all_ of them.”

Harry blushed, “In my defence, I was high off my arse.” He looked up and scrunched him brow as he shrugged on his school robe, “I’m still not sure if I did sleep with Mia or if she was just fucking with me.”

The other three he at least had semi clear memories of that drunken encounter. But Mia? Nothing at all. Either he had been black out drunk – which usually meant he was too tired to do anything at all – or Mia was lying to him. He was pretty sure Mia was lying.

“Mate,” Ron breathed, “You were literally living the dream.”

Harry scoffed, “Even if you’d had the chance you’re too gone on our resident bookworm to sleep around.”

Now it was Ron’s turn to blush, “Shut _up_.”

“Ron, you absolute idiot, she likes you too.” Harry sighed at Ron’s doubtful look, “anyone with eyes can tell she’s just as gone on you as you are on her. Just – just ask her, mate.”

“But what if –“

“Nope,” Harry held up a hand, “Next Hogsmeade weekend, you’re asking her.”

“But –“

“Up-bup-bup.” Harry shushed, “You are asking her.”

Ron mumbled something.

“What was that?”

“I said fine!”

“What’s all this yelling for?” Hermione said, shoving through the compartment door with a raised eyebrow.

“Nothing!” Harry and Ron said immediately.

 

-0-

 

The sorting had only just finished and Harry was nearly bouncing in his seat. Some ministry women in a pink outfit that did not at all suit her complexion – and come _on_ , Harry had nothing against the colour but there was such a thing as over kill – was giving a speech that he wasn’t listening to. All he could think about was the special edition of the daily prophet that should be flying in right about…

Now.

Dozens of owls swooped in through the windows, shocking everyone except Harry.

“You had something to do with this, didn’t you?” Hermione sighed from beside him.

“Yep.” He grinned.

Hedwig dropped the paper in front of him and he picked it up with childish glee. Hermione and Ron peered in from either shoulder to read as well.

_ DAILY PHROPHET SPECIAL EDITION _

_ Ministry secrets and coverups, by Rita Skeeter. _

_My dearest readers, it is with a heavy heart that I must report that our ministry, the group of witches and wizards we trust to keep us safe and protected is riddled with lies and corruption. I do not write this lightly, it has been through many hours of research and investigation that I can say that what follows is nothing but truth._

_Earlier this week our very own boy hero, Harry Potter, requested an interview. I, of course, accepted. My first question was obviously where he had disappeared to. Imagine my surprise when he told me he went on vacation with his godfathers, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin._

_He proceeded to tell me that not only is Sirius Black innocent, but that he never had a trail in the first place. Apparently, upon his escape two years prior, the minister ordered immediate execution upon his capture. Luckily Mr Potter managed to gain an audience with madame Bones and have Lord Black acquitted of all charges._

_It is sad, though, that our own ministry could be so cruel as to imprison an innocent man and then attempt to cover it up instead of admitting to their mistakes. Even more so when we take into account that another country which will go unnamed by Mr Potters request so easily verified his innocence and granted him asylum._

_ Full details on the Sirius Black case and his innocence on pg. 5 _

_Next I questioned Mr Potter on his safety with a known werewolf, Remus Lupin. Mr Potter was quite adamant that he trusted Mr Lupin fully and did not fear him. When I asked if Mr Lupin took his wolfsbane potion, a potion that supposedly allows a werewolf to retain their mind during the full moon, the answer was, shockingly, no!_

_According to Mr Potter the wolfsbane potion, while effective, is a slow acting poison. One that accelerates the aging of a werewolf and weakens the wolf. I, of course, researched this and found it to be completely true. Several other countries have conducted widespread research into the topic and found that werewolves on the wolfsbane potion rarely make it past forty._

_My question is: why is this information being kept from us? Why are werewolves not taught that the ministry advertised potion is actually killing them?_

_ For more on alternative to wolfsbane go to pg. 7 _

_And last but certainly not least, Mr Potter offhandedly mentioned having to go see a mind healer along with his recently acquitted godfather; and the reasons for this are quite shocking._

_Mr Potter admitted that part of the reason he attends these sessions was because of how he grew up. Mr Potter, heir to the house of Potter, was raised by his muggle aunt and uncle who both detested magic. As such he did not have an easy life and knew nothing of our culture. In fact, Mr Potter expressly asked me to inform the wizarding world that he would like to extend an apology to anyone he has unintentionally slighted, as he didn’t know any better._

_The second reason is that he witnessed the death of a friend as well as the resurrection of his parents murderers._

_That’s right folks, Lord Voldemort is back._

_Mr Potter was kind enough to show me his memories of that night. The memories were obviously checked for tampering, none of which was found. As an extra precaution I myself ventured to the place depicted in the memory, little Hangleton. All the marks on the earth and features line up exactly with the memory._

_Why would the ministry lie about something like this? Were they trying not to start a panic or were they simply trying to cover something unpleasant up again?_

_Me, myself, and I believe that the wizarding world deserves to know that Voldemort is back in order to give us a chance to prepare for the surely incoming war._

_Until next time, my dear readers._

_ Full interview with Mr Potter on pg, 11  _

Harry set the paper down with a smirk. All around wide eyed students were turning to face him, Dumbledore looked pissed, the ministry woman was red in the face, Snape looked like he’d seen a ghost – like a scary muggle ghost, not a friendly Hogwarts one.

This was absolutely perfect.

He’d have to send Rita a thank you present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we'll get some snapey POV. I wanna make something like, extra super clear so listen (Read?) up. I detest canon Severus Snape. Canon snape is a mean hearted bully that did absolutly nothing to earn redemption, i have and will fight people on this point. The version im writing is not canon and therefore im fucking with his character so much its so ooc its not even funny. If JKR wanted me to like snape she shoulda done more than 'uwu i wanna bang ur mum harry'. Not saying THIS is what she should of done but hey, at least im trying.
> 
> ANYWAY, what'd you think of the chapter? I honestly thought about having Theo and Harry slowly fall in love but its just so much funnier to me if theo's been head over heels since day 2 and Harry, captain oblivious, has no clue until the moment he does. What did yall think of Theo, Blaise, and Pansy? I feel like i wrote a good dynamic (Tho honestly i'll probs read this sometime when its not 1 am and be like wtf was i thinking)
> 
> leave a comment or a kudos my dudes. Love yall,  
> Ideasofmarch


	9. The destruction of several misconceptions and a great hall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!  
> So my GCSE's are F I N A L L Y done, thank the gods. I don't think i failed anything so there's that.  
> I wrote this chapter mostly because i don't really have much else to do until September and also i kinda love to write this. it's a bit shorter than usual, sorry about that but i usually try not to write just to write, like i don't want to just fill in a word count - it felt right to stop when i did so yeah, i did.  
> In this baby we get some usage of the fork-wand, some Snape time (VeRY OOC, as previously stated canon snape is a douch whom i hate, MY Snape is nothing like him thank you very much), more theo pinning and some insight into Theo's character, and some golden trio angst - sorry about that.
> 
> hope you like it,  
> IdeasOfMarch <33

“Harry.” Hermione frowned, giving him that stern look that was blatantly mother hen like.

“Yes, ‘Mione?” He said pleasantly.

She picked up the offending article and stabbed it with a finger.

“Are you _trying_ to start an insurgence?”

Harry blinked, placing the fork full of treacle tart back on his plate, “Uh.”

“An insurgence is an organized rebellion to take over a government through use of subversion and armed conflict.” Hermione recited, as you do when your pseudo brother does not understand your , admittedly, rather advanced vocabulary.

“Ah,” He smiled, “Then yes. Yes I am. Though I think I was aiming for more… mass mutiny.” Harry added jazz hands, for presentation purposes, of course.

“You should have talked to me first.”

“Why?!” Ron laughed, reaching across the table to bump Harry’s shoulder, “This is epic, mate!”

“It’s a great way to get people angry, yes. But you used all your material at once, you should have spread it out, _kept_ everyone pissed at the government. If you had released an article say… every week, the ministry wouldn’t have had time to calm people from the last article, ergo less chance they can cover it up.”

“And they say _I’m_ the hidden Slytherin.” Harry mumbled.

Hermione patted his cheek as he pouted, “You’ll learn, young padawan.”

“Hermione, _no_.”

“Hermione, yes.” She giggled, then shook her head, “But seriously, though. You’ve had your brain unlocked for like, two months – there’s no _way_ you’d be able to think like the snake you really are, not yet at least. I’ve had to keep you two idiots out of trouble for the past four years – the sneakiness rubs off on you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Oh Merlin.” Ron groaned.

“What?” Harry asked.

“I just realised,” He said, waving his wand-fork at the two of them, “I befriended the most snake-ey people in Gryffindor, how did I even _do_ that?”

“Well Ron, Mr strategist man, ever consider that like attracts like?” Harry smirked.

“No.” He said sternly, “Shut down that line of thinking right now.”

Ron jabbed his fork at Harry to punctuate each word, and in doing so managed to send various cakes and pies right at Harry with his wand-fork.

“Harry?” Ron said sheepishly.

Harry blinked, wiping a piece of treacle tart of his eyes.

“Are you alright?” Hermione asked, not noticing that almost everyone had turned to stare at the Gryffindor table.

Harry picked up a pie that wasn’t splattered on his face or the ground

He grinned.

“ _Food_ _Fight_!”

Harry managed to hit Ron right in the face, which resulted in a spluttering red head throwing a plate full of jelly back. Harry ducked and the Jelly hit a Ravenclaw sixth year, the girl growled and sent back a cup of pumpkin juice – which hit Seamus right in the nose.

Soon the entirety of the student body – including the Slytherins, if you can believe it – were involved in an all-out dessert war. Pies were flying left and right, there was a Hufflepuff throwing tarts like bombs, and _no one_ was safe from the frosting.

Umbridge stood up, indignity lined in every wrinkle on her toad like face.

“I _demand_ you stop this instan –!” She was cut off by a piece of cake nailing her in the mouth.

Harry, totally and completely on accident, hit Dumbledore with a few – several dozen – lemon tarts, he even managed to get Snape with some black berry cake.

Funnily enough, the only professor that seemed to be actively trying to quell the food fight was Umbridge. Snape and McGonagall just looked resigned, Dumbledore was too busy dodging lemon tarts, and the rest of the professors had actively joined the fight once they themselves had been hit or, in Flitwick’s case, they just thoroughly enjoyed throwing and dodging projectiles.

“Duck ‘Mione!” Harry shouted, laughing in delight as his projectile pie sailed over his friends head and hit an oblivious Draco Malfoy.

“I’ll get you for that Potter!” He squawked, somewhat less intimidating because of the pie sliding down his face.

“I wish you luck in that respect, Malfoy!”

Somewhere between the ice-cream and fruit house lines had blurred. Three Ravenclaw and two Hufflepuffs had turned over a bench and were hoarding cake and taking cover. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor were fighting back to back.

Eventually the amount of food to throw dwindled and the students started to calm. Of course, by this point, absolutely everyone was covered head to toe in some sort of sweet confectionary or another.

“This is your fault.” Hermione said to Harry as she picked berries out of her hair.

“ _Me_?!” Harry scowled and pointed at Ron, “ _He’s_ the one who sent twenty pies flying at my face!”

“It was an _accident_ , I swear!”

“You’re the one who _gave_ him the fork.”

“Oi! He still _started_ it –“

“Mr Potter.” Snape frowned, somehow managing to look intimidating with frosting dripping off his robes, “Fifty points for mass destruction.”

“But –“

“ _And_ detention, for a month, with me. _Starting_ tonight, come to my office in one hour.” Snape sneered when Harry dejectedly nodded, then he did his whole robe-swishy dramatic exit and stalked out of the great hall.

“ _Damn_ , Harry.” A twin said,

“Detention before the welcoming feast’s even finished.” The other whistled.

“We might have to up our game. Eh, Gred?”

“I do believe you’re right, Forge.”

Ron groaned, “Look what you’ve done, Harry. We’re going to be pranked to within an inch of our _lives_ now.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Harry rolled his eyes, “And need I remind you that this whole mess is _your_ fault.”

“You _literally_ screamed ‘food fight’.”

“ _After you threw food at me_!”

“Shut up, the both of you.” Hermione smacked them both upside the head, “As far as I’m concerned this is both your faults.”

“But ‘Mione –“

Harry wisely shut his mouth at her glare.

-0-

When he walked into Snape’s office he was half expecting to be cursed.

In all fairness Harry would admit to sharing _some_ of the blame for the food fight, so he supposed he would deserve a stinging hex or two for the, accurately described, mass destruction.

To his immense surprise, when he carefully poked his head into the room, Snape was just sitting there. Elbows on his desk and his head in his hands. He’d obviously done a cleaning spell on his robes – though the room still smelt vaguely of cake – and looked more stressed than Harry had ever seen him.

“Sir?”

Snape’s head snapped up, “Come in, Potter.”

Harry hesitantly stepped into the room, sitting on one of the dark chairs when Snape gestured at it. Harry didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing, instead looked around the room and catalogued everything he could see while Snape collected his thought.

Despite numerous detentions over the year he’d never actually been to Snape’s office. It was surprisingly well lit, made up of mostly stone and shades of gray with the odd green lining. There were shelves and shelves worth of books and a whole row full of cauldrons. All in all it was very _Snape_.

“Do you know why I have called you here?”

Harry blinked, “Uh, mass destruction?”

“No.”

“Then uh –“

“Did he really send you to Petunia?”

“How did you…?”

“Answer the question, Potter.”

Harry’s eyes darted to his lap, “Ah… yes. He did.”

Snape dropped his head back into his hands, and in the split second before he did Harry could’ve sworn it was horror on his face.

“Leave.”

“What –?”

“ _Leave_!”

“Uh, yes sir – uh bye?” Harry quickly got out of his chair and fled the room. Snape was volatile at the best of times, one simply did not stick around if they actually had the option to leave.

-0-

Back in the office sat one Severus Snape.

To a stranger, or really anyone really because it’s not like there was anyone alive that knew his tells, he just seemed to be his regular closed off self. But if you did, somehow, know him, then it would be easy to tell he was going through one hell of a crisis. It was in the way he sat, not calculated and intimidating but rigid and so, _so_ still. It was in how his lips were pulled into  a thinner line then usual, and how his eyes had this glassy look that was practically a sign saying: ‘Do not disturb!’.

And what a crisis he was having.

He’d been played. That old, manipulative goat had played on every one of his insecurities and weak points – and he’d just let it happen. He’d let himself be strung like a puppet and played his dutiful role as the villain.

He was such a fucking _fool_.

“Harry Potter lives a happy life, my boy, it is quite reminiscent of his fathers.” Dumbledore had said.

“From what I’ve seen he’s a little hellion, he loves to prank.”

“Nothing like Lily at all, really.”

 _Lies_.

All of it. Every word was a blatant manipulation and Severus – a decorated occlumency expert and master manipulator in his own right – had allowed his emotions to cloud his judgment.

And oh _fuck_.

How far he’d fallen.

He’d always been a strict teacher, potions require a firm hand lest the student end up without any hands at all, it was far too dangerous a subject to be a forgiving professor. But he’d never been so _cruel_. Merlin, even thinking about half of what he’d said or done these past few years made him want to go to the school board and have himself fired.

Longbottom, oh sweet Merlin, _Longbottom_. He’d probably ruined potions for that boy for the rest of time.

 _Fuck_.

He needed a drink.

Severus stood stiffly, the action jerky and stilted. He walked around his desk, whispered a quick password before grabbing a bottle of, well, something – he didn’t really care what it was, as long as it had an alcoholic content.

He sipped straight from the bottle and grimaced at burned his throat.

If only Lily could see him now.

_She’d be so ashamed of the man I’ve become._

He’d been forced to wear a mask – several masks, really – for the majority of his life. The first was a loyal death eater, devoted to eradicating the world of muggleborns and their kin. The second was a dour potions professor, hated by everyone but his favoured Slytherins. The third and final was a less severe version of the second mask, this is the one he wore around Dumbledore, it was just enough to let the goat think that only he knew the real Severus.

He hadn’t worn his real face in so long. In truth, not since he was fifteen.

How long could you wear a mask, pretend to be someone else, until the mask became glued to your face, and the act you put on wasn’t an act?

Evidently, just shy of fifteen years.

He was going to have to turn this around.

It was going to be a pain in the arse, that was for sure. He was given little to no respect from any one other than his snakes. Earning back his students trust was going to be an uphill climb, but he’d dug the hole he was currently trapped in, it was no ones responsibility but his own to climb back out. Plus he’d have to do it with Albus being none the wiser – but that shouldn’t be _too_ hard, the old man was growing more delusional by the day.

Severus snorted into his bottle.

Wonderful first act of making amends _that_ was; scaring Potter out of his office and then getting drunk.

At least he had a whole month of detention to work up the nerve to apologise.

-0-

“Oh, I’ll get that stupid blood traitor. When I tell my father –“

“ _Nobody_ gives a fuck, Malfoy. Give it a bloody rest already.” Blaise drawled from the couch.

Theo rolled his eyes and groaned. Malfoy had been ranting for the past half hour – somehow not managing to say much more than that he’d tell his father about it – and now Blaise had set him off on _another_ tangent.

Now they were sitting here, still stuck in their cake ridden clothes because Crabbe and Goyle were hogging the showers and cleaning charms ruined fabric thank you very much, and listening to the blonde peacock’s drivel, because _both_ _Crabbe_ _and_ _Goyle_ were in the _fucking_ showers.

Fuck.

Malfoy whirled on Blaise, “How _dare_ you speak to me like that, Zabini! I’ll –“

“You’ll what? Tell your father.” Blaise scoffed, “My mother is practically Italian royalty. We _outrank_ you. Your father can’t _do_ anything.”

“Why you little –“

“Just move along, Malfoy.” An older snake sighed, already suffering a headache from the bi-weekly Potter rant. She’d thought that she’d at least get a few nights in before Malfoy went off again.

“Blaise, you idiot.” Theo smacked his shoulder as Malfoy stormed out of the room.

“ _What_? I’m _right_.”

“We don’t _antagonize_ him for a reason, Merlin. It doesn’t matter if he can’t do anything serious, he can still be a major annoyance – one we absolutely _do not_ need during our OWL year.”

“He’s right.” Pansy said from Blaise’s other side.

Blaise scowled at her, “Oh shut up, Pans. Shouldn’t you be off comforting your betrothed?”

Pansy made a face, sighing as she got up, “I hate everything.”

Theo patted her arm as she passed by.

“It’s so not fair,” Blaise pouted, “Even Pansy got to take a shower already.”

“I’m going to hex both those idiots when they get out of there.”

“There’s enough showers in there for all of us, locking the doors was not necessary.”

“Come on, Blaise, you know those two aren’t actually smart enough to be spiteful, right?”

“I guess,” Blaise huffed, “Still going to hex them though.”

Theo nodded his agreement as the two fell silent again.

One thing Theo especially enjoyed about the Slytherin common room was that, besides the biweekly Potter rant (A phrase that had been coined a third of the way through their first year), it existed in perpetual quite. Not silence, complete silence had always made him twitchy, but a soft lull of hundreds of students talking quietly to their friends. It was a comforting background noise, one he didn’t feel obligated to contribute to, and Theo liked it all the more for that.

“Hey, Theo.” Blaise bumped shoulders with him.

“Yeah.”

“Remember when I said I approved of your little crush.”

“Uh, yes.”

“I take it back, I’ll never forgive him if my boots are ruined.”

Theo rolled his eyes again, “You are the most dramatic person I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you, darling.”

Theo laughed as Blaise fluttered his eyelashes.

Merlin, he was so damn thankful that Mrs Zabini had elected to send Blaise to Hogwarts. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like if Malfoy were his only choice in friends. If it wasn’t for Blaise they probably wouldn’t have even had Pansy – he’d ,after all, been the one to catch her without her ‘I love Malfoy’ mask on and invite her into their fold.

Theo would like to think he had a strong enough character to not be sucked into Malfoy’s sphere. And that may be true of the almost sixteen year old him, if he was truly being honest with himself, eleven year old Theodore Nott wouldn’t have stood a chance. Were it not for that sarcastic Italian boy who’d looked at Theo and helped him become his own person, well, he’d probably just be another Crabbe and Goyle.

A piece of treacle tart slid down his hair and plopped onto the floor.

Theo laughed a little to himself, ignoring the raised eyebrow from his best friend

He couldn’t believe Potter had started an actual fucking food fight. It was ridiculous, truly, but the boy hero had done it.

Theo just couldn’t get his face out of his head. The pure mischievous glee that had radiated off his smirk when he’d hit Malfoy in the face – it had been _captivating_. Theo had actually gotten so caught up in Potters laughter that he’d walked straight into the path of a projectile pie.

That had quickly snapped him out of it and he got back to discretely nailing Malfoy with frosting and throwing random deserts haphazardly. At one point he’d even teamed up with the Weasley twins to wreck absolute havoc at the Ravenclaw table – Theo was just as confused as to how this happened as the poor Ravenclaws who got pelted with fruit. The twins had shouted something about seeing him around before disappearing into the fray of cake covered bodies.

Theo had simply shrugged and kept going until the food finally ran out.

He didn’t care what anyone said, that had been the most fun he’d had in _years_ – and if his boots were ruined beyond repair, so be it.

“Theo!” Blaise suddenly piped  up, “The two oafs have vacated the latrine!”

“Why can’t you just say that they’re out of the shower?”

“Because.” Blaise answered.

Theo just sighed, used to Blaise being, well, _Blaise_ after four odd years of bunking together in the dungeons, and allowed himself to be pulled to their dorm room to grab their towels and soap.

-0-

Harry couldn’t be entirely sure how it happened.

One moment he was entering the common room, confused yet altogether relieved that he’d spent a grand total of fifteen minutes in detention and hadn’t been around for the inevitable Snape explosion. And the next he was being hoisted onto the largest wingback, obnoxiously red chair that had probably ever existed.

In a matter of seconds what looked like the entire Gryffindor house was sitting or standing – was that one guy hanging onto the wall? – in front of him. Harry blinked at them.

Hermione huffed, moving through the crowd easily with Ron quick on her heels, apologizing for all the hands and toes she steeped on as she went. They only stopped when they stood by Harry’s side, Ron leaned on the chair and crossed his legs, Hermione put her hands on her hips and tilted her head just so.

The majority of Gryffindor gulped at _that_ look.

Hell hath no fury like a pissed of Granger.

“Just what do you think you are all doing?” She bit out.

“Oh come _on_ , Granger!” Some fourth year shouted, “He can’t publish something like _that_ and then _not_ say anything!”

“And you were just going to interrogate him? Put him on _trial_?” She glared at the boy until he looked away, three seconds was all it took. Hermione snorted, Coward. “Harry allowed that article to be published because he knew there was certain information the public had a right to know. That does _not_ mean you all are allowed to force him to recount a –“

“’Mione.” Harry stopped her rant with a gentle smile and a tap on her arm, “It’s fine. I can handle them.

She eyed him critically for a moment before nodding and stepping back, “If you’re sure.”

“Thank you.” He said to her, then turned to the crowd. “Now listen up you lot, because I’m only saying this once. Everything printed in that article was the truth, my godfather is innocent, the ministry has been conducting subtle genocide on werewolves for years, and, most importantly, the Dark Lord is back.”

“He can’t be!” Harry rolled his eyes at the girl.

“I gave Skeeter my memories, which she verified and had confirmed by a professional. Rita wouldn’t have printed something so controversial if it wasn’t true. The Dark Lord is back, and we all have to prepare ourselves – to fight, protect, heal. It doesn’t matter – but we have to be ready to face him, so I published the article.”

“You called him the Dark Lord!” a second year shouted, “Only death eaters do that.”

The crowd roared at that, turning betrayed eyes to Harry.

“Do none of you know why we don’t speak his name?” His question was met with blank, slightly guilty faces, “It’s fine, I didn’t either until this summer. It’s because the death eaters placed a taboo on it, saying the name alerts them of your location. So I either call him the Dark Lord, which is only a slightly less stupid title than you-know-who.”

His answer drew some nervous giggles from the shame faced crowd. He wasn’t even surprised at how quickly they had turned on him. The wizarding world as a whole was fickle, but he supposed he could blame some of the lack of trust from his peers on himself. He hadn’t exactly reached out beyond Hermione and the Weasleys, so it’s not like his classmates had much to go on besides what they’d heard of him.

Harry nodded at a fair headed girl with her hand up.

“Um, So Sirius Black didn’t betray your parents?”

“He didn’t. It was Peter Pettigrew, my godfather was framed.”

Another hand shot up.

“My, uh, my uncle got bit three years ago – could you recommend a place to buy this better wolfsbane stuff?”

“Add for the place is already in the paper, but you can send any extra questions to my other godfather, Remus Lupin, he won’t mind.”

“Did you duel you-know – uh, the Dark Lord.”

“Yes.”

“Did you win?”

“It was a draw.”

“Did he cast an unforgivable on you? The Cruciatus curse?”

“Okay!” Fred cut in. Every Weasley in the room plus Hermione had turned to glare at Cormac McLagan, the boy in question held up his hands and shrugged. Harry looked like he was close to having a panic attack, this was definitely time for a Weasley twin diversion.

“Time for the firsties to get to bed!” George added, moving to shoo some first years into their respective dorms.

“And the rest of you to start minding your business.” People scattered.

“Now.” George glared at some of the stragglers who looked like they were going to try and talk to Harry.

“Thanks for that, Guys.” Ron said absentmindedly, the majority of his focus on his shaking best friend.

“We need to get him to your dorm, it’s too loud down here.” Hermione turned to Ron, “Can you carry him?”

“He weighs less than Ginny.” Ron said, already scooping Harry up.

The group made their way up the stair case quickly. Fred, George, and Ginny blocked off anyone who tried to get too close.

“We’ll leave him with you two, yeah?” Ginny said at their dorm door.

“Yeah, thanks gin.”

“sure, Ron,” She looked at Harry, “Let us know when he’s better.”

“We will.”

“Harry,” Hermione said softly, “Harry you’re at Hogwarts, you’re safe.”

“We’re right here, mate.” Ron grabbed his hand, “We won’t let anything happen to you.”

“He – he “ Harry hiccupped, tears flowing freely down his face by now, “He tried to use all three on me. Only succeeded with the Cruciatus and Imperious.”

“It’s okay,” Hermione grabbed his hand and held on tight, “ _you’re_ okay.”

“It hurt so _much_.” He whispered, “I could only scream, it was so much _pain_.”

“You survived, mate.”

“I almost didn’t.” Harry said it so quietly Ron and Hermione almost thought they hadn’t heard it at all, “And when Cormac asked – it – it was like I was back in that _fucking_ grave yard all over again.” Harry gripped at his hair with the hand that wasn’t clutching Hermione’s, “ _Fuck_. I haven’t had a flash back in _weeks_.”

“Harry,” Hermione soothed, “You went through something traumatic, you’re not just going to be okay. But the time between the flashbacks will increase, and it’ll keep increasing until you stop having them altogether.”

“But what if they don’t stop.”

“Then we’ll still be here.” Ron said resolutely, “we will _always_ be here for you.”

Harry sniffed. “You won’t leave?”

Ron swallowed, “Harry, abandoning you last year was idiotic, it was unforgivable of me – but you forgave me anyway, even when I didn’t – don’t deserve it. I swear to you I will never be so stupid again. You’re my brother, Harry, in all the ways that matter.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, family is forever, mate.”

“Does that make me your sister then?” Hermione asked, Ron completely missed the amused tilt of her lips.

“Uh -well. Ah -you – um.” He spluttered, face redder than his hair.

Harry giggled.

Ron looked at him strangely before his eyes widened in surprise, “that was a joke.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Who?”

Harry and Hermione burst into simultaneous laughter at Ron’s confusion.

“Thanks for this, guys. You helped… more than you know.”

“Anytime.” Hermione said before throwing her arms out and enveloping both boys in a tight hug.

“Hermione!” Ron laughed, “You’re chocking the both of us.”

She responded by hugging them closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, how'd i do. i've never actually had a flashback or panic attack, nor have i witnessed one, so i just did a bit of research into how to help someone with it - please let me know if i get something like grievously wrong. ALSO, did yall like the food fight, i thought it might be fun - and yes i did get alOT of inspiration from Taylors new music video.  
> WHICH REMINDS ME.  
> i totally forgot last update but HAPPY PRIDE babes. Everyone who's going/went to a parade cheer for me too cuz there aint none in my country :(
> 
> Anyhoo let me know what yall think of the chap  
> Love,  
> IdeasOfMarch <33


	10. Absolute messes behind absolute masks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM BACK BITCHESS,  
> finally, i know. my apologies babes. I went to Bali with ma girls and then i started volunteering at my school so i was hecking busy. Now im sick so you can thank the bed rest for my writing this chapter but like i also kinda like what i wrote so yay. I kinda screwed with the timeline - so in this story Umbitch came in with all these rules planned out instead of just making them up as she goes. Oh and Theo and Harry have their first interACTION. Have fun with this, i guess, tell me if you like it!!  
> Ta,  
> Ideas of March <33

-0- _Harry_ -0-

It had been something like a month since his return to Hogwarts and, from every angle he’d so far considered, it was the worst thing he’d ever been made to endure.

Sure, having ‘Mione and the Weasley siblings back in his immediate vicinity was nice – amazing really – but it was only just worth dealing with all the rest of this bull shit. Before Hogwarts his freshly healed body was a somewhat positive addition to his life. But now… sweet Merlin, if he thought the hounding was bad before it was a hundred times worse now. Apparently being rich, hot, and famous was a serious chick – and occasionally lad – magnet; who knew?

On top of the daily dodging of ridiculous love declarations and amateur love potions, he’d also had to put up with Delores – fucking – Umbridge. The new bane of his bloody existence.

She was… Merlin he didn’t even have the words to describe her.

He’d call her a toad – but that would be an insult to poor Trevor.

The woman had been trying left right and centre to implement rule after ridiculous rule. You couldn’t play unapproved music or read unapproved newspapers – those were the most worrying ones. But then there were also ones like: _girls and boys must stand six inches apart at all times_ and _boys must not put their hands inside their cloaks_ that were just plain annoying.

And she was a blood purist to boot.

Harry was about this close to just saying ‘fuck it’ and strangling her himself.

Now he was sitting in her class, reading some bullshit book full of absolutely false information, desperately wishing he’d taken Alex up on his offer and transferred to Castelobruxo.

He yawned.

“Is my class boring you, Mr Potter?”

 _Yes_ , he wanted to say, _yes it bloody well is._

“No, Professor Umbridge.” He said instead.

“Then I’ll thank you not to yawn during it.”

“Yes, Professor Umbridge.”

The frilly pink monstrosity that was his teacher harrumphed and turned back to her desk. Harry barely managed to conceal an eyeroll.

Harry was honestly just thankful that, thus far, he was fully booked on the detention front.

And Merlin, if his detentions with Snape weren’t some of the weirdest experiences of his life. Not including that abrupt first one, Snape had just had him… making potions? And he wasn’t even mean about it, the greasy dungeon bat was – dare he say it – civil. They’d talked, kind of; it was stilted and awkward and mostly just questions from Snape and short answers from Harry.

For whatever reason Snape was trying to be better and Harry – well, he wasn’t ready to let bygones be bygones just quite yet. If Snape wanted forgiveness or absolution or whatever the hell he was looking for, he’d have to earn it.

He didn’t know just what Snape would have to do to earn his forgiveness, but it was more than some polite conversations over a brewing potion.

Yesterday had been his last detention, meaning that later today he’d be able to hole up in the darker parts of the library and hide from both the general student body and his increasingly affectionate best friends and read until dinner.

Somewhere between the start of summer and the train ride to Hogwarts Ron had, somehow and against all odds, gained some modicum of confidence and started flirting with Hermione. To everyone’s, including his own, surprise she flirted back.

At first Harry had been overjoyed, however, his joy soon turned to disgust as his pseudo siblings started getting… frisky. He loved them, truly he did, but there was some things he just did not ever want to see.

They weren’t even a couple yet!

Ugh, one of these days he was going to sit them down – or lock them in a room together – and make them just talk about their feelings for once. Out of the three of them, Harry was _not_ supposed to be the emotionally intelligent one – that was Ron most of the time (read: in every case excluding his own, damn it).

His mind drifted back to that large defence book he’d nabbed at a sale over on Knock turn Ally. It was the kind of book that hadn’t a design on neither its cover nor its spine, the kind that had been written and added to by dozens of people over dozens of years, the kind that had probably been stolen from one of the old families libraries. It was most certainly not legal and as such very, _very_ intriguing to Harry.

If someone had told him a year ago he’d be exited over reading a large old book he’d have laughed in their face.

Now…

Now he was just even more excited about reading that damn book.

Harry was shocked out of his thoughts by a clap from Umbridge.

“Please close your books and pack up, class. Homework is to read chapters 12 to 15 by our next session.”

She waited until they had all filed their books into their respective bags before dismissing them with a wave of her hand. The entire class bolted, almost causing a block at the doorway with how they all attempted to make a break for freedom. Even the elitist Slytherin pricks were sighing in relief.

The golden trio, luckily, had gotten out before the hallway got too crowded and walked, as they usually did, in a neat row of three.

“I hate that class.” Hermione muttered from beside him.

“Same.” He nodded back at her.

“Don’t worry ‘Mione,” Ron slung an arm around her shoulders, “No stupid class could actually stop someone as brilliant as you.”

Hermione went beet red, “Oh, hush you.”

Harry sighed as the two descended into a series of sweet nothings and bickering in equal measure – he really needed to have that talk slash lock them in a room together sooner rather than later. He let them turn down a hallway leading to the Gryffindor common room, smiling softly and shaking his head as he turned the other way and headed to the library with his shrunken tomb and at least 6 hours to curfew.

In an astoundingly short amount of time, a mere twenty or so hours, Harry had become quite well acquainted with the maze that was the Hogwarts library. The shelves were so unorganized one would almost think they’d been specifically organized to have everything in the exact opposite place to any related topics. If you ventured past the first few layers of studying table, each one more quiet and secluded than the last, you’d come to a dark passage.

Well, actually it was more like fifteen different passages.

But Harry only took the second one to the right. It was only a minutes’ walk,  but in the dark, surrounded by the smell of thousands of browning books, it felt eternal. This path, he knew, would take him to a surprisingly well-lit area, only about as big as a small classroom , filled sparsely with old tables and older chairs  - the perfect place to be alone and study illegal text.

At least, he thought he’d be alone.

When he walked into the study area he was met with the wide-eyed stare of Theodore Nott.

Nott was sitting just a table over from Harrys preferred spot, books spread around him with a half finished essay in front of him.

Had it been any other Slytherin Harry would have probably just walked away, a quite spot it in the library wasn’t worth the hassle of dealing with someone like Malfoy. But Nott was… different. Quite, reserved, definitely less of a prick than most of the snakes in their year.

He was also friends with Zabini, which only proved that he couldn’t be all bad.

Blaise Zabini was rather famous in Hogwarts, or, you know, he had been for about a month in their fourth year. He’d apparently, according to Lavender Brown, asked a Hufflepuff muggleborn on a date – the girl had accepted and then proceeded to say yes to four more dates. Really, the true shocker was when they broke up _and then remained friends_.

So yeah, Nott being friends with a Slytherin like that was a point in his favour.

“Can I, uh, join you?” Harry asked.

Nott was assessing him. Despite everything, the boy was _still_ a Slytherin, and he matched the supposed reputation of a snake far better than Malfoy ever could hope to. As Harry waited for him to come to a decision he couldn’t help himself from, somewhat awkwardly, staring at him.

Nott had these teal coloured eyes that were just, so striking. Harry literally didn’t even care that they were currently boring into him with a strange intensity – actually he kind of wanted Nott to _keep_ looking at him like that. The boy was also, obviously, a pureblood – meaning that he had cheekbones for days and full lips and – _oh shit_.

Okay fine, maybe Nott was a little (read: very) handsome. You can’t sue Harry for simply being observant.

“Yes, Potter, you may.”

Harry shook himself out of his thoughts before taking his usual seat with a relieved sigh. He didn’t know what he’d have done if Nott’d said no – probably just sat down anyway in all honesty.

He opened his book and chanced a look at Nott, who was resolutely writing his essay and paying Harry no attention what so ever.

It was… refreshing, honestly, to have someone not care what Harry was doing. To have someone other than Hermione and the Weasleys finally be _calm_ in his presence. Over the holidays Alex and Liana and them had been a pleasant reprieve but since he’d come home relaxing moments were few and far between.

Sure, he could easily disappear with the marauders map if he really wanted some quite. But Harry didn’t _like_ being alone. There was a difference, after all, between the quite and silence. And Harry hated silence, that stillness of being the only person around, he just – he couldn’t do it, not for any substantial amount of time anyway.

He’d put up with it if he had to. Case in point when he wanted to read semi-illegal material. But he generally avoid being alone, if he could.

Harry wondered if Nott would be up for doing this again – just, sitting next to each other and reading their respective material.

-0- _Theo_ -0-

Theo, much like ninety percent of the Hogwarts student population, utterly and without reservation, loathed Professor Delores Umbridge.

She was, first and foremost, a blood purist – something Theo found distasteful even if he had to pretend to be one himself – not only that, but she was a Merlin damned imbecile as well. The crazy bint actually expected them to perform their spells for the first time in the exam itself. That alone was enough to turn all but the most poncey or brainless Slytherins (Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle most certainly fit in that category) against her.

 _Everyone_ knew that a spell had to be practiced at least a hundred times before any sort of reliability could be claimed.

The only conclusion anyone could draw was that the toad was intentionally sabotaging them – and if that was the case, Umbridge was about to make some very powerful (or, at least, they’d _be_ very powerful in the next five to ten years) enemies. Either that or she was just a brand new level of idiot.

In both scenarios, though, Theo, along with practically everybody else, was forced to take his defence education into his own hands. That meant spending a good portion of his time learning the actual course material from books passed down by the older Slytherins. The only problem was that Theo just. Could. Not. Work. Not when he was surrounded by the endless gossiping and whispered giggles that occurred whenever Pansy and Blaise were around each other. He’d either get annoyed or join in, thus failing to complete any kind of work.

Pansy and Blaise, curse them, were able to multitask in a way he just couldn’t.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, sitting in the main area of the library always resulted in at least four people coming up to him for help and two offering him money to just complete their work for them.

Though he didn’t advertise it – in fact, he did everything he could to _hide_ it – Theo was one of the most accomplished students in his year group. He needed to be. Because he needed _something_ to lean on after his inevitable disownment and disinheritance but he knew if he was too open with his intelligence it’d basically be a magnet for the Dark lords attention.

So he’d put to use the only useful thing his bastard of a father ever did for him. That thing being telling him of the _actual_ quite side of the library. Theo was quite sure that his father didn’t actually mean to be useful. He was just drunk, as usual, and bragging about his days of school and death eater-ship, as usual. Theo, as usual, was listening just enough to nod along and not get cursed when his father started talking about all the secrets he’d discovered while he was a student – something Theo knew wasn’t exactly encouraged, children were supposed to figure it out themselves or whatever.

Theo had memorized every word.

So, after that sorry excuse for a DADA class, he’d taken a hop, skip, and a secret passage way (seriously, the only way to get the door to open was to do a dance involving hopping and skipping) to get to the library in record time and slip into the quite zone.

 It was, as the name suggested, quiet. The sort of quite that made your heart beat sound like it was being broadcasted on a radio held right beside your ear but somehow wasn’t stifling. For someone like Theo, who’s mind was often so full of this and that and too much of _everything,_ that was perfect.

He was able to get lost in his books, he had them laid out around him in a semi-circle, each turned to a different page, with a stack of parchment in the middle to take notes. That was, until he was knocked out of the zone by the sound of dramatically scuffed shoes on dusty ground.

He looked up.

And there stood a wide-eyed Potter, a huge tomb in his very nice arms and a slightly dropped jaw. Theo was fairly certain his facial expression mirrored Potters. He hadn’t exactly used the quite zone too often but those few times he did he never saw another soul, least of all Potter.

“Can I, uh, join you?” he said.

It took everything in Theo to keep his face straight. His gut reaction was to say yes. He very much wanted to get up and pull out a chair for Potter – maybe offer him a drink. But, despite what his incredibly traitorous heart may say, Theos _brain_ told him that that would be a phenomenally idiotic idea.

He knew that the only reason he’d survived a crush on the boy hero thus far was because he had diligently worked to put a surplus amount of distance between them. Whenever he’d come into to contact with Potter, and he’d try to minimize even that, he’d been aloof. Never insulting, but never friendly either. He’d thought, in the beginning, that this would somehow make his crush disappear. Now he kept the distance to stay sane.

It seemed, however, that all his effort was for naught, because then, just as he was about to shake his head and tell Potter to leave, his filter collapsed and he said,

“Yes, Potter, you may.”

Shit.

Potter smiled at him and took a sear at the table next to him. Theo momentarily forgot how to breath.

The book he had out in front of him was easily the size of Theo’s entire forearm and Potter seemed utterly absorbed in reading it. Years in the house of the snakes had made Theo somewhat excellent at pretending to do something while actually keeping a close eye on someone else; so he’d simply whipped out a fresh piece of parchment, started writing nonsense, and watched Potter out of the corner on his eye.

Theo was smart enough to know that with Potter sitting not two meters away from him, there was no way in hell he’d be getting any actual work done. So for now he’d let himself be weak, just for a little while.

Potter glanced up at Theo for a moment before going back to his book with a soft smile on his lips.

Theo… he hadn’t been imagining that, had he?

He must have made a soft choking sound because Potter looked back up at him with a concerned look.

“You okay, Nott?”

“Uh,” He cleared his throat, “Yes, fine. It’s just that, uh, defence this year is pretty difficult.”

Potter let out a quiet snort, “right? That class is a bitch.”

Theo raised his eyebrows and smirked, “I’d rather say it’s our teacher this year deserves _that_ particular moniker.”

“I’d be inclined to agree” Potter returned his smirk.

Theo then realised that they’d been staring at each other for a rough minute and a half and promptly blushed. Potter, it seemed, realised it at the exact same moment but, instead of blushing, his smirk just grew a tad bit wider.

Did that mean – ?

 _No_. it couldn’t _possibly_ mean –

But, maybe…

 _Don’t be ridiculous_ , Theo told himself, _there is no way Potter likes me, he barely even knows I exist_.

But potter was smiling at him and his brain had currently checked out for the moment.

“Speaking of,” Potter said, and Theo didn’t think he succeeded very well at pretending he hadn’t just been staring at Potter’s eyelashes (Which, by the way, were unfairly gorgeous), “I’m kind of hosting  a study group tomorrow, you’re welcome to come, if you want.”

“i…”

Did he want to?

The short answer was: of fucking _course_ he did. Whatever else Potter was, he had always been a DADA _genius_. Their entire year group would sell an arm and a leg to study with Potter – well, the Slytherins would never _admit_ it, but it was true none the less. Only thing was Potter had never shown a willingness to help anyone outside of the golden trio (and maybe the she-Weasley and Lovegood) – and now he was offering that to Theo.

“Can I bring friends?”

“Of course,” Potter answered quickly, his head tilting to the side with a mischievous little grin that made Theo want to faint, “wouldn’t want you to feel out numbered.”

“Uh, yes, then.” Theo said, “I’ll just bring along Blaise and Pansy.”

“Parkinson?” One of Potters brows flicked up, “Isn’t she, like, one of Malfoys?”

Theo knew that Pansy would be pissed as hell for revealing her act, that was, if he wasn’t also getting her into a study group with Harry Potter in their OWL year. Plus, Potter hated Malfoys guts. He’d probably find Pansys plan hilarious and righteous.

“She’s playing him.”

“What?” Potter asked.

“Pansy’s been pretending to be in love with him since she was ten.”

“But… why would she _do_ _that_ to herself?”

“Because so long as her parents believe the Draco will marry Pansy, they won’t sign any other contract.”

“Won’t she just have to keep the act up for the rest of her life, then?” And Merlin, Potter looked this close to standing up and, Theo didn’t know, going off to fight the pureblood laws with brute force?

“Just until she’s seventeen.”

Potter relaxed back into his seat and Theo really couldn’t help the fondness he felt at Potters sympathy for his friend.

“Oh thank, Merlin.” Potter said, “You can bring the both of them, then. Meet us at ten on the seventh floor. Have you seen that tapestry of the trolls?”

“Yes.”

“Wait there.”

“Uh, okay.”

Potter smiled, “Cool.”

And then he went back to reading his book, just like the whole conversation had never happened (Okay fine he was still smiling a little bit, but that was mostly subconscious).

Theo… was not faring as well. He’d tried to go back to writing his essay, but then he’d just kind of sat there, staring at his parchment with what must have been a dopey smile. He’d done that for so long that there was a large ink blot under where he’d held his quill for too long. Theo swore under his breath before deciding that yeah, this was going nowhere.

He waved his wand, “ _tempus_.” Ah, 6:45 pm, almost dinner.

“ _Shit_.” Potter said, “Is that the time?”

He didn’t answer as Potter shot out of his seat, shrinking the book with a wave of his hand and dropping it into his pocket as he went.

“See you tomorrow, Nott!” He called as he practically fled the library.

Theo blinked.

Did Potter just use wandless wordless magic like it was the easiest thing in the world?

Pansy and Blaise better be fucking grateful that he was brining them to that study group tomorrow.

Speaking of which… he had to go tell them what just happened.

Theo wasted no time shoving his books into his magically enlarged bag, the essay was a mess so he didn’t mind just crumpling it and throwing it in with the rest of his stuff, before making his way back out to the main area of the library.

Pansy and Blaise, like he knew they’d be, were still sitting where he’d left them.

“Oi! You two.” Theo said as he approached, “You will never believe what just happened.”

Blaise pulled out a chair, “Well?”

“I just talked to Potter.”

“What?” Pansy said.

“We just had a conversation, and it was… good? I think.”

Blaise cheered, quietly, mind you, this was still the library.

“What did he say?” Pansy said, leaning in.

“He invited me – _us_ – to a study group tomorrow.”

“Us?” Blaise said.

“Yeah, he said we could all come.” Theo flicked his eyes to Pansy and smiled nervously, “I kind of had to – uh – tell him about you, Pans.”

“ _Theo_!” She said, hitting him on the arm, “I’ll let it go, _this_ _time_ , because I really want in on that study group. But don’t you _dare_ do that again.”

“I know, Pansy, geez. I wouldn’t have told him if I didn’t know he’d keep it a secret.”

“I _know_.” Pansy sighed.

“I’m an excellent judge of character.”

“Shut up.” Blaise said.

Theo snickered. “You guys want to go tomorrow, right?”

“Of course we do, you idiot.” Pansy said.

“What she said.” Blaise nodded.

Theo smiled.

“Let’s get to dinner, then.”

-0- _Harry_ -0-

“I did something.” Harry said as he dropped onto the bench beside Ron and Hermione.

Hermione groaned, “I swear to God, Harry, we leave you alone for, like, three hours and –“

“It wasn’t anything bad!” Harry pouted, “None of ya’ll have any faith in me.”

“Did you just say ‘ya’ll’?” Ron frowned.

“Shut up, the ya’ll is universal.”

Hermione waved a hand at both of them, “What did you do Harry?”

“I may have invited Nott, Zabini, and Parkinson to the study group tomorrow.”

“What?” Ron said.

Hermione just sighed, “Why?”

“Um, he was nice?”

Hermione looked confused but Ron just tilted his head for a moment before nodding.

“Ah.” Ron said.

“What?” Hermione said.

“Harry’s got a crush.”

“What?”

Harry blinked, “No I don’t.”

Ron swallowed another bite of pie, “You do.”

And Harry kind of wanted to scream. How the fuck did Ron read everyone else like a book and yet he and Hermione couldn’t just get together. Because fine, Harry would admit it, he may have gotten swept up in good looks and a smart mouth – but he also invited Nott because the study group needed some snakes.

Even Hermione had admitted that they’d need to include every house if they really wanted to preach no prejudice.

“I just met him today.” Harry tried.

Ron snorted, “Doesn’t mean you don’t think he’s hot.”

“I – but –“ Harry hated the stupid blush that crawled up the back of his neck.

“Oh dear.” Hermione said, “That’s the same look you had with Cho and Cedric.”

“It is _not_!”

“Yes it is!” Luna shouted, somehow privy to their conversation even though she was literally two tables away from them.

“Luna!” Harry yelled back, “Stop using the Nargles to spy on us!”

“No!”

Hermione shook her head, “That girl is crazy.”

“Do you _still_ not believe her?” Harry asked.

“Oh no, I believe her. She knows too much weird shit for her not to be some type of seer or something. Doesn’t mean she’s not crazy. I mean, what sane person shouts across the hall like that?”

Ron coughed, “Harry did.”

“So? He’s crazy too, if anything that just proves my point.”

“Hey!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so they meet. How was it???  
> just for clarity's sake. Theo has the kind of long lasting crush that just like kept building up over time. Like he liked what he saw and that was that. Harry, however, is as we all know, oblivious af and therefore did not notice Theo until like fourth year and even then it was by association. Harry's crush is kind of like 'oh shit he's hot' and will grow from there. (don't get me wrong tho, Harry likes what he's seen of Theo's personality thus far).  
> Also idrk if ya'll really wanted to see the detentions but i just didn't really feel it when i read the scenes i wrote so im real sorry bout that.  
> anyway see ya'll next time,  
> Ideas Of March.


	11. the course of true love never did run smooth (but nobody mentioned dueling)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy guys,  
> Guess who's backk. Please don't murder me for being slow, you can blame school. Gods, i know everyone told me how hard A levels would be but nobody told me how hard this would be, dangit. In other news i didn't actually flunk my IGCSE's if any of you were wondering (I got an A in chemistry so take that Mr. Ziad), well i did get an E for mandarin but we'll ignore that.  
> Anyway please enjoy the chapter - it includes: Theo panicking, Harry being an Adrenalin junkie, Ginny being in LoovE, and ron being annoyingly insightful.

_~*Theo*~_

To say that Theo was nervous would be an understatement akin to standing in the artic tundra in a thread bare sweater and calling it ‘a bit nippy’.

In less than an hour he, Pansy, and Blaise were going to be joining a bunch of Gryffindors to study. Something that he was currently considering to be a very, very bad idea.

If another Slytherin found out about this it could be disastrous. Pansy would be married off if she didn’t disown herself first, he’d definitely be thrown out on his arse if his father caught wind of it. Blaise’s mum would probably find it funny so at least there was that. They’d all be ostracized for the rest of their Hogwarts careers. The three of them would be moved up to the top of the dark lords hit list (betrayal, even perceived betrayal because the dark lord thought his followers children were owed to him, was not taken lightly).

What were they _doing_?

This was such a bad idea, sweet Merlin.

They were supposed to be Slytherins – self-preservation was meant to be in their _blood_.

His crush on Potter was not meant to actually lead to anything. It was more of an admire from a distance kind of thing, he didn’t even really _know_ Potter. Theo could name his favourite desert (treacle tart – that boy had a serious obsession with those things), his favourite colour (it was green, funnily enough, Potter tended to gravitate towards it before forcing himself to choose red), heck, Theo could even say which quill he preferred.

But those were all things anyone could figure out if they observed Potter for long enough – and didn’t that just make him feel like a creep – he didn’t know anything that was really personal.

Potter was just supposed to be eye candy – especially recently – and now he might be heading into something more territory.

Which would be bad, and really great, but also so, _so_ bad.

Just because he was going to be disowned eventually didn’t mean he wanted to particularly _rush_ the process. And falling for Potter, for real, would definitely qualify as ‘disownable offence’, at least in his father’s eyes .

Pansy, at the very least, should be more against this. But she and Blaise were too excited at the idea of studying DADA with Harry Potter, and the idea of teasing him about his crush, to care about the consequences. Which, he reiterated, was not very Slytherin of them.

Why were they doing this again?

Theo sighed. The time for talking Pansy and Blaise out of this had been three days ago, maybe he just shouldn’t have told them about the offer at all. He and Blaise were leant against the wall now, the one just in front of the girls dormitories, waiting for Pansy; who was doing… whatever the hell it is girls do when they say they need to grab something and then disappear for an hour.

He’d never understand girls.

“What are you two doing loitering outside the girls rooms?” Draco Malfoy said with a raised eyebrow and a cocky smile.

It took every ounce of Theo’s self-control to not groan outright as the blonde boy sauntered over to them. How did Malfoy even exist? Honestly, the boy should get an award for making it through fifteen entire years of life and still being so phenomenally conceited.

“They’re waiting for me, Dracy-poo.” Pansy said, coming up behind them with her simpering voice in full effect. “Theodore and Blaise promised to help me in Runes, I did just terribly on my last exam. Would you like to join us?” She jutted out her bottom lip and widened her eyes in a look so overly earnest it almost made Theo snort.

Pansy didn’t need help in runes. She was the top of her class, not that Malfoy knew that. And Pansy knew that Malfoy absolutely hated Runes and paid very little attention to her excluding the time allotted for her fawning over him. _That,_ combined with that nickname, made him visibly cringe – there was no way Malfoy would willingly spend time with them today.

His eyes widened ever so slightly, “I’m quite alright, Pansy.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Maybe some other time.”

“Maybe.” She waved as he backed away from them, then turned to face Theo and Blaise with a smirk, “Too easy. You two ready to go?”

“We’ve been ready for the past half hour, pans.” Blaise deadpanned.

“Oh hush.”

And then they were off, headed towards some random tapestry because the boy Theo liked said so.

Wonderful.

The walk to the seventh floor passed in a blur. Pansy and Blaise were talking, discussing some definition of a rune or another, but Theos brain could not process much more than that. Thankfully, they hadn’t run into anyone else on the trip and arrived a good five minutes after the time Potter had given.

Fashionably late, for a Slytherin.

Otherwise known as ridiculously early on the Gryffindor time scale.

They stood out there for an entire twenty minutes before what sounded like the cast offs of a circus trapezed around the corner. Potter, obviously, led the group; which consisted of, surprisingly, members of all the other three houses.

Theo could tell the second the group noticed them because they all went from smiles and jokes to weary in a split second. All except Potter; his face lit up like a yule log and Theo immediately forgot how to be annoyed at their tardiness.

“Nott!” He smiled, “Sorry about the wait, we had to grab the puffs from the basement. How long have you been waiting for us?”

Just as Blaise was about to snap something at him, Theo quickly cut in, “Oh not too long.” Expertly ignoring the incredulous look the other two snakes shot him.

“Good. Just step aside and I’ll get us in.” Potter stepped forward to a blank wall.

None of them seemed inclined to question him, the consequence of being even vaguely aware, and in some cases directly involved, in the boys frankly ridiculous antics these past five years. There was, however, a barrage of tilted heads and incredulous looks as he started pacing in front of the wall in a very purposeful manner.

Abbot opened her mouth, probably to ask Granger whether or not Potter really had lost it, when a door suddenly appeared and she snapped it shut in surprise.

“Welcome,” Potter said, arms thrown open and bowing in a dramatic imitation of a ring master, “to the room of requirement.” With that he swung the door open, revealing a room that was well worth his dramatics.

It was gigantic, perhaps a few square meters smaller than the great hall, with an open floor plan but clear separation of the different areas. Way in the back was a library, the books stuffed in every which way with no organisation what so ever, and a large wooden table with enough chairs to seat them all. Then came an entire row of practice dummies that looked unfairly intimidating placed near a stack of weapons. For some reason there was a large pile of pillows sitting in the right corner. There even looked to be a station for cleaning and maintaining the weapons and various objects that Theo presumed would act as barriers in a mock fight.

“How…?” he found himself whispering. Potter, standing a little closer now that everyone had pushed forward to peer into the room, smirked.

“All you have to do is imagine what you want and pace three times in front of this wall. Hogwarts does the rest.”

That certainly made it even more impressive if he had come up with and designed this all himself.

Potter led the charge into the room, the rest of them following him slightly hesitantly, still gazing around the room in open amazement. Even Blaise and Pansy couldn’t disguise their wide eyes and slightly dropped jaw.

“So,” Potter said, bringing them all back to reality, “I thought we might get started on stunners. It’s a simple enough spell for me to gauge your levels and then we can go from there. Any objections?”

A general rumble of agreement sounded and Potter clapped his hands, quickly sorting them into pairs and handing off a pillow per group so they wouldn’t get concussed every time they were stunned.

Theo smiled warily at one of the Weasley twins whom Potter had seen fit to pair him with. He smiled back, with a lot more teeth and a lot less trepidation.

“Ready?” Potter smiled something wicked.

It was only stunners, Theo reminded himself, it couldn’t be _that_ bad.  

“Set…”

Weasley twin #1 winked at Theo.

“Go!”

Oh sweet Merlin, help him.

 

~0~

 

Theo was wrong.

Stunners were _that_ bad. Weasley twin #1 landed him on his arse nine consecutive times, the only time Theo even managed to land a blow was when Potter marched over and forced Weasley to dodge only and let Theo practice. Even then it was nearly impossible to hit the red headed demon, for all his long gangly limbs the boy was _fast_.

“Chin up, mate.” Said demon chirped after dodging another one of Theo’s spells, “You’re better than most!”

“I’ve gotten you a total of three times!”

“Yeah,” He span out of the way, “Normally that number is _zero_.”

Theo growled and the other boy laughed. Theo made to shoot another stunner, stopping just short of saying the spell and letting a distracted Weasley dodge the air before throwing the spell in his path.

“Finally!”

Theo did not, no matter what Pansy would later say, jump when Potter spoke from behind him.

“Good job, Nott. Just keep your head, yeah? Try to stay a step ahead of him.”

Before Theo could say anything – not that he’d be able to articulate his thoughts even if given the time – Potter was casting a rennervate over his shoulder and turning to the next pair.

He had barley a moment to blink before Weasley was up, all grinning teeth and a dangerous glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Nice one, Mate. Your turn.”

It wasn’t even two minutes later when Theo found himself thrown into his pillow to the sound of a cackling red head.

 

~0~ Harry ~0~

He had, initially, only planned on letting everyone get a few hits in each before stopping them and heading over to the study tables to work on some theory.

But an hour in and everyone was having just a bit too much fun knocking each other out.

Harry was heading around, correcting pronunciation and posture alike, and having the time of his _life_ watching his peers attack each other.

He’d paired Ron with Zabini and the two, surprisingly evenly matched, were giving each other hell. Neither had managed to score a hit yet – Zabini moved too quickly for Ron to aim and Ron just couldn’t be out strategized. Harry would have to order them to stand still and actually try out the spells if this kept up. Luna was keeping Parkinson busy – and maybe it was a bit unfair of him to pair her with Luna Lovegood, nothing could hit that girl, she just danced out of the way. Hermione and Ginny had been teamed up against George and he was holding his own remarkably well.

Harry nodded to himself after checking through the rest of the pairs in the room, finally turning his attention to his favourite pair so far. Nott and Fred were an absolute delight to watch. Fred, though he tried to mask it with a playful smirk, was being put through his paces by an increasingly frustrated Nott.

Even though Nott was being knocked onto his arse every few minutes it was still incredibly clear that he was a talented duellist, Fred was just better. They – and by they he means Hermione – had done _some_ preliminary work for this session to be able to pair the members with someone close to their level. Fred and George, no matter how much they pretended otherwise, were rather genius when they were interested in something; apparently, duelling and pranks were those somethings.

Nott was really the only person who could feasibly hold up against even one of the twins – and Merlin, if that didn’t make Harry like Nott even more.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts before someone caught him staring, Harry focused back on the red headed terrors. Both Weasley twins were kicking arse in their respective duels.

How good would they be if they were fighting _together_?

If anyone were watching Harry right then they might have run right out of the room at the slightly maniacal glee written plain across his face. He fiddled for a moment with the inside pockets of his coat before pulling out a whistle Liana had given him after somehow winning thirty in an arcade game.

The shrill noise startled everyone in the room, pulling their attention to a grinning Harry.

“Okay everyone, I’m pretty sure I know what direction to go in next Saturday and we have like twenty minutes until lunch, so… who wants to see me duel the Weasley twins?”

Fred and George met each other’s eyes before nodding at him. The room was filled with nods and a couple of shouted agreements at the plan.

“’Mione,” Harry called, “Referee?”

She rolled her eyes, “Sure. Everyone move back unless you want to get cursed!”

With Hermione herding the rest of the group into a safe viewing area Harry turned to the twins, “Rules?”

“Nothing fatal.”

“No maiming either.” The other added.

“I feel like I should be more worried that those are your first suggestions.” Harry said with a shake of his head, “But fine, whatever: No maiming and or killing. Anything else goes?”

“Agreed.” The twins said together.

“Harry!” Hermione signalled for their attention, “You three ready to go?”

It had been a solid month since he’d last had a good duel – those rounds with the enchanted practice dummies don’t count – and Harry was itching for a fight. He hadn’t noticed before but his body had gotten used to the intensive training Merina had put him through and was starting to get a little restless with all his idle time. Studying, of course, took up a portion of that time – now that he was actually doing it, at least – but it still wasn’t enough.

“Ready.” He confirmed, walking over to the other side of the room and adopting a loose stance. Fred and George nodded and took their places as well.

“Alright then, what are the rules?”

“No killing, No maiming.” He recited, counting them off his fingers as he did.

“That’s all?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Anything else goes.” A twin, Fred probably, smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like ‘ _boys’_. “ The duel ends when one of you yields. On my mark, one…”

Harry rolled his shoulders, dropping his wand into his hand and taking a moment to assess the terrain, Merina’s drills kicking in almost unconsciously. The floor was flat, a distance of maybe ten meters on either side before they ran into onlookers or the wall, no objects to hide behind and nowhere to throw someone off.

“Two…”

The twins had split. Where Harry was planted firmly in the middle of his side of the duelling space, they had separated onto either side, sending each other weighted, unnervingly calculating looks. They were obviously used to working together.

“Three. _Go_!”

Hermione sprinted out of the way, getting behind the protective barrier she’d put up just as Fred’s spell scorched the ground Harry had leapt away from.

“Hey! No maiming.”

“Sorry.” He replied, sounding entirely unapologetic.

Harry retaliated with a rapid fire of bombardos, lighting up the floor under their feet with miniature explosions, forcing the twins to sprint out of the way and towards Harry. The twins jumped again as Harry destroyed the floor, and he spun quickly to freeze the floor where they would land.

They landed with a surprising amount of grace, sliding onto their knees but not falling. George melted the ice with a flick of his wand, allowing Fred to bounce to his feet and shoot a spell at Harry that quite literally blew him off his feet.

This was the first days of Costa Rica all over again.

Except this time he was tucking his head in and rolling into a crouch instead of being smacked in the face with salty water and the occasional piece of kelp.

By the time he got his bearings back both Fred and George were circling him with predatory smiles.

One moment passed, then another.

They struck like lightning. Throwing hexes and curses in an alternative pattern to keep Harry from ever getting a rest – it was all he could do to dodge like hell and hope that his protego would cover his blind spots. The ones that hit him ranged from causing no damage at all (though he was fairly certain that his hair was a lot longer and a different colour than it was at the start of the duel) to making his arm seize up in pain.

With what little brain power he could spare, Harry managed to place a few of the spells as prank spells, mostly harmless and just for distraction, but a few of them… a few of them he recognised from his big dark leather book of semi-illegal spells.

Nothing that would really hurt him, at least not permanently, as per the rules of their duel.

 _Oh_ , Harry thought, _so that’s how you want to play it_.

Harry dropped the shield, ducking low and throwing out his arms in a way that made both twins pause. He closed his eyes, letting his magic pull out of his wand and into the palms of his hands and then down to his toes, then further still into the ground he’d destroyed earlier. It happened in a split second and at a snails pace all at once.

The ground was flat, nowhere to hide.

Harry brought his palms together in a resounding clap, smirking in delight as the dust and debris followed his movement.

Now there was somewhere to hide.

He could here the frustrated shouts of the twins as he moved slowly to the outside of the dust cloud. Relying only on his magic to be see, he carefully manoeuvred the bigger pieces of rocks to smack into the twins, herding them slowly into the centre of the duelling zone. It took a ridiculous amount of concentration and as such was a massive risk to take in a duel like this, if one of the twins managed to escape the cloud he’d be toast – if there was anymore than the two of them for his opponents he wouldn’t even bother attempting it.

Finally he felt that the two were close enough together, and disorientated enough, to drop the cloud. Harry brought opened his arms and dragged them down to the floor palms first.

The twins looked like they’d just weathered a particularly nasty storm, both covered in dust with cuts littering their skin, the one Harry thought might be George was on the ground. The second the dust cleared Fred threw up a shield around him and his brother, and not a moment too soon because the second Harry could get a good visual he started up on his nastier curses.

Again, nothing that could really hurt them…

Permanently.

“Alright, alright, alright! We yield!” Fred yelled.

Harry lowered his wand with a grin.

“Merlin, Harry.” George said, still panting but almost laughing, “You have got to teach us that.”

He laughed, “Sure, mate, as soon as you start joining me on my morning runs.”

“That just cruel.”

“Harry wins!” Hermione interrupted, striding forward to grasp his hand and raise it above their heads. The study group, which Harry did _not_ forget about, broke into whistling and applause.

Harry blushed up to his ears. “Oh get to lunch, you lot. The next meeting is next Saturday same time.”

 

~0~ Ginny ~0~

After watching her pseudo brother duel two of her actual brothers, Ginny had only two thoughts in her mind.

_Merlin, I’m going to have to start running in the morning._

And;

_Luna looks so pretty right now._

Although, that last thought was one that was just kind of a constant in the hum drum of her thoughts, so it could probably just be ignored. Luna had been distracting her since she’d figured out that she preferred birds over boys, by now it was relatively easy to go about her daily life while being thoroughly enraptured by the goddess that was Luna Lovegood.

“So, Gin.” Harry said, coming up behind her and throwing a sweaty arm over her shoulder, “What’d you think of our duel?”

“Get off me, you dusty gorilla.” Ginny wrinkled her nose and elbowed him. Harry made an ‘oof’ noise before glaring at her playfully, she rolled her eyes, “Yes, yes, you were all very impressive.”

“ _Thank_ you, Ginny dearest.”

“Oh shut up. I’m joining you tomorrow by the way.”

“What?”

“Running, genius. I want to learn that spell.”

Harry lit up like a puppy, “Oh, that’s great! I get up at six –“

“ _Six_!”

He shot her a look at the interruption, “I get up at _six_. Run for about an hour and then do some duelling practice, your welcome to join me for that as well, if you want – actually, please come I _need_ a sparring partner, I swear if I have to fight a dummy one more time I’ll –“

Ginny slapped a hand over Harrys mouth before he started to hyperventilate, “ _Alright_! I’ll come.”

“Thank you!” Harry said, though, he said it through her hand so it sounded more like: “hnk ou!”

“Ginny!” Luna called out, and Ginny’s attention was immediately grabbed.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Go. Your wife awaits.”

“Shut _up_. She’s not my wife.” Ginny hissed.

“Yet.” He winked.

“Are you coming?” Luna asked.

“On my way, Luna!” Ginny said back before turning to Harry, “not a word.”

Harry mimed zipping his lips with the most amused face. Ginny couldn’t help but feel marginally offended. To express this she shot him a very rude gesture that her mother would probably murder her for.

Instead of concentrating on _that_ , she instead turned towards Luna, who was waiting for her at the door with a dazed expression. She paused for a moment, then turned back to Harry, “By the way, your hairs pink.” Luna giggled with her as if she’d just realised this too, they broke into full on belly clutching laughs as Harry brought a strand to his eyes in horror.

“To lunch?” She asked.

Ginny nodded somewhat overenthusiastically “Yes _please_. I’m starved after that.”

Luna laughed and it sounded like windchimes, “All that dodging did tire me out a bit.”

“I know, I saw you with Parkinson. It was really impressive.”

“Thank you, the Puffwinks like to let me know where the spells would end up.”

“That’s nice of them, Luna.”

She beamed, “It is, isn’t it?”

Ginny opened her mouth to reply just as they walked into the great hall and the comfortable quite turned into the roar of a thousand teenagers crammed into a single space.

“I’ll see you later, Ginny.” Luna patted her arm before floating off towards the Ravenclaw table, heedless of the way she’d left Ginny speechless with a single touch.

Ginny sighed. She needed to get a grip.

Circe, she needed to get a grip several years ago.

She sat down next to her brother, who was directing meatballs into his mouth was that magic fork his best friend had got him, with another sigh. Don’t get her wrong – it’s not like she spent literally all her time pinning over her best friend. She was in love with Luna, yes. But if the other girl hadn’t figured that out after all these years it was probably a lost cause.

She wasn’t going to put her life on hold for anybody.

So she’d dated over the years, boys and girls who caught her eyes, but none of them lasted more than a few months. And then she was right back to staring wistfully at her probably slightly insane best friend.

She wondered if this was going to be the rest of her life.

“You okay, Gin?” Ron asked, his mouth full of food.

“Yes. No. I’m –“

“Thinking about how you’re in love with your best friend and your unsure about whether or not she likes you back?”

Ginny blinked. How could someone he just _say_ things like that? All insightful and shit – even with a smear of tomato sauce on his nose and a streak of green in his hair that she was sure he didn’t even know about.

“No.”

“ _Liar_.”

“Fucker.”

Ron ruffled a hand through her hair. Smirking at her sharp shout and batting fists.

“Just tell her how you feel, Gin. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“The world ends? I get attacked by fiery demons?” Then she added in a smaller voice, “I lose my best friend?”

Ron smiled, “You won’t _lose_ her, dummy. You two have been friends since you were, like, two, I don’t think anything could break that.”

“If I tell her I love her it might.”

“ _When_ you tell her,” He said with a soft glare, “You’ll either be more than friends, or remain besties and you can finally have some closure.”

She pouted, “What if I don’t want closure.”

“Shut up. You either need to get with Luna or move on.”

“Oh like _you’re_ one to talk. We’re both in love with our best friends and are doing nothing about it. You don’t get to lecture me on it.”

“Untrue.” He scoffed, stuffing another meatball into his mouth, “I only realised I liked Hermione, like, last year. And I am too working towards doing something about it –“

“Working towards doing something?”

“Not the point, Gin.” He pointed at her with the fork.

“Don’t point that thing at me, you idiot. The last time you did that you started a food fight.”

“That was _Harry_ and – no. You are not changing the subject. My point was that you’ve loved Luna nearly as long as you’ve known her. If you don’t do anything –“

“What? _You_ will?”

“No.” He snorted, “I’ll tell Fred and George, _they’ll_ do something about it.”

Ginny’s eyes widened, “No.”

“Yes.”

“I hate you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Fuck off.”

Ron fake gasped, “ _Ginny_. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

She rolled her eyes and shoved him. Placing one of his meatballs in her mouth as he fell backwards off the bench with a shout. That, at least, seemed to rip Hermione’s attention from the book she was currently reading.

“Ron? Ginny? Is he okay?”

Ginny waved a fork at her, a non-magical, because she wasn’t a _complete_ idiot, “He’s fine, Hermione. Don’t worry about it.”

Hermione raised a brow, “Ron?”

He groaned, sticking a thumb up in the air. Hermione seemed to take this as her cue to go back to reading and Ginny smiled at them both.

“Hey guys.” Harry greeted, slipping into a seat beside them with normal length and coloured hair.

“Glad to see you fixed your hair.” She said, passing him a plate of treacle tarts without him having asked.

He run a hand through his locks, “Took a while, but I managed.”

“How are you, Ron? What are you doing on the floor, Ron? Are you okay, Ron?” Ron grumbled as he sat back down. “I see how it is, I’ve been replaced by my sister.”

“Don’t feel too bad about it, Ron.” Harry grinned, “You’ll always be my _first_ friend.”

“Much rude.”

Harry laughed, blowing an exaggerated kiss in Ron’s direction.

“Harry, do me a favour and fuck off, yeah?”

Ginny gasped, “Ron. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“I hate all of you.” He frowned, petulantly stuffing another meat ball in his mouth.

“We love you too, Ron.” Harry and Ginny sing-songed together.

They started giggling even harder when he swallowed his meat ball and muttered, “Why me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading babes. word to the wise this might get like reposted in the future cuz i got a beta, suprise (hi orie).  
> Until next time loves,  
> Nadira.


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